Superman and the Illuminati
by phoenixnz
Summary: Lois and Clark face their toughest battle yet when a mysterious group decides to target Superman, and his baby daughter. Note: This is a collaborative work. I write the words but the ideas are a joint effort with baron de superbielle (KSite)
1. Chapter 1

Episode One – Corruption

Part One

A dark Cadillac limousine pulled up beside the Luthorcorp Building and double parked beside the line of parked cars. Traffic came to a shuddering halt behind it and drivers honked their horns impatiently. The uniformed chauffeur got out, staring snootily at the other drivers, while a police officer on a horse approached.

"You can't park here, buddy," he said.

The chauffeur ignored him, nose in the air, hat pulled down to shade his eyes. He quickly moved around to the back door, opening it wide and allowing his three passengers to get out. Two were dressed in the finest European fashions money could buy. Both were wearing long cloaks which seemed incongruous in the warmth of a late Metropolis summer.

They were clearly extremely wealthy and so arrogantly full of themselves that they paid absolutely no attention to the continued shouts and horns of the drivers still trying to pass the huge vehicle.

The third man was dressed simply in a black suit with a white shirt and grey tie. He joined the other two waiting at the kerb.

One of the cloaked men, a man with an aristocratic nose and long, silvery dark hair, spoke rapidly in French to the chauffeur.

"Gustave tourné autour de l'immeuble " he ordered.

"Oui monsieur," the chauffeur nodded.

The three men went inside while the chauffeur went back to the vehicle and got in, driving off. The police officer had written out a ticket and placed it under the windscreen wipers, but it soon flew away.

The dark haired man swept in as if he was attending a premiere event, rather than heading toward the bank of elevators. The other two followed him into the lift, waiting as the car ascended to the fifth level where the main Luthorcorp reception area was housed.

The man swept out of the elevator and stared at the woman at reception.

"Something you want?" she asked casually, glaring at the three men.

"Monsieur Luthor, s'il vous plait."

"Name?"

"I 'ave already told you. Monsieur Luthor, s'il vous plait."

"I meant your name," she said, with an uninterested air.

"I am Baron Yves de Rochefort," he told her, expecting her to be impressed.

"Un huh. Do you have an appointment? Mr Luthor is a busy man."

"I? I do not need an appointment," he said with a heavy accent. "I am the Baron de Rochefort. And I am a very busy man myself. Mr Luthor, s'il vous plait. And I do not care to repeat myself once again."

The woman sighed, yawned, then picked up the phone.

"Yeah, Luce, there's some guy here wanting to see Mr Luthor. Says he doesn't have an appointment. Yeah, I told him that, but ... I don't know. He's got kind of an accent. I can barely understand a word he says. Some baron, or something."

She looked up at the man once again.

"What was your name again?" she asked.

The baron harrumphed in impatience. "I am the Baron de Rochefort."

"Is there something I can do to help you gentlemen?"

The Baron turned and looked at the redheaded woman. She was beautiful. Her facial features seemed to be European in their ancestry. He wondered if her family had come from France, or a neighbouring country.

"And you are?" the Baron enquired.

"Tess Mercer."

Yves de Rochefort snorted in derision. English. The name's origin was either Scottish or English, but the meaning was that of a purveyor of fine silks and fabrics of great luxury. Unless, of course, her name was derived from that of le Mercier, but never mind, he thought.

"I am 'ere to see M'sieur Luthor. Kindly direct me to him."

"Mr Luthor is a busy man. Please state your business."

"Very well, Mademoiselle Mercer. My business is that I wish to discuss an, 'ow do you say, alliance, with Mr Luthor in regard to the one known as Superman."

Tess' eyes widened and she nodded. "Follow me," she said.

The three men followed the redhead to the bank of elevators and joined her in the car. They stared straight ahead, aware of the curious looks of the redhead. But she said nothing.

It wasn't long before the elevator reached the sixtieth floor of the Luthorcorp building. Tess opened the double doors and walked in.

De Rochefort saw the bald man sitting at the glass topped table. He knew much of Luthor's recent history. Luthor had disappeared four years earlier after what had been publicised as an accident at a drilling site in the Arctic. Two of Luthor's men had been killed at the site, after an avalanche had caused the collapse of the structure. Luthor had somehow made it out and had been virtually crippled.

During that time, he had used stem cell research to restore himself back to full health. Lesser men, de Rochefort supposed, would not have been able to survive under such circumstances. But Luthor himself was unique.

"Tess, what the hell?" Luthor said.

"I'm sorry, Lex, but they insisted on seeing you and wouldn't leave until ..."

De Rochefort strode forward. "M'sieur Luthor, I am Baron Yves de Rochefort. This is my associate, the Marquis Antoine de Sade and Doctor Francesco Donatello. We wish to discuss an alliance with you."

"An alliance?" Luthor looked puzzled. "What alliance?"

"May we sit?"

Luthor waved his hand. "Of course."

De Rochefort smiled. But it was not a smile of friendship. Lex could see that this was a man who was used to getting his own way. The Marquis, as well. Both had the look of European aristocrats. The doctor, Donatello, was clearly Italian. His suit was well-cut and obviously by an Italian designer. Armani, perhaps.

Lex got up from behind his desk, not wanting to appear unapproachable.

"We know you are an extremely clever man, M'sieur. We have learned much about you and your miraculous recovery from your accident four years ago. We know about your Project 33.1 and your work with, uh, 'ow do you say, mutants? We would propose an alliance against the alien known as Superman and we would like your assistance in a very special, er, 'ow do you say, project?"

"What project?"

"The hybrid. We wish to study it."

"Hybrid?" Lex asked, puzzled. He thought for a moment.

Doctor Donatello seemed to take his silence for refusal.

"We can take the child with or without your assistance, Mr Luthor. We wish to study it."

Lex still remained silent, trying to think of a way out of this. Firstly, Superman was his enemy, and something he considered to be his property. Secondly, Lex might be a lot of things, but he would never kidnap an innocent baby. From what he'd heard, Lois Lane had given birth to a baby girl a month earlier. There'd been an announcement in the Daily Planet. Mara. That was her name.

Given that he'd lost his own brother in infancy, he was loath to take an infant away from its mother. No matter who the father was. Lex might hate Clark Kent and all he stood for, but he wasn't about to let these aristocratic bastards get their hands on the half-human child of Clark Kent. Not if he didn't want to incur Superman's wrath.

"What is your answer, Luthor?"

"There will be no alliance. Superman may be an alien and a thorn in my side, but he is my problem and I will not ally myself with the likes of you."

"You do not comprehend who you are dealing with, Luthor," de Rochefort told him. "We are very powerful men, you see, and we will do this with or without your aid."

"Get out of my office," Lex hissed. "And stay away from Superman."

De Rochefort turned to his associate and spoke rapidly in French. So rapid that even Lex had trouble keeping up.

"Cette américain refuse une alliance avec nous! Ses gens la sont des vrais barbares ... voila pourquoi il faut aussi surveiller Luthor je refuse que ses anciennes colonies sans histoire et cultures nous donne des orders a nous des européens sans nous il existerais même pas ses primitifs."

Lex knew a lot of languages and he got the gist of the Baron's words. In essence the Baron was berating Lex for refusing an alliance and that Americans were barbarians, without history or culture. The Baron was suggesting they should monitor him as well. Lex didn't appreciate that. Nor did he appreciate the idea that they felt because of them, or their ancestors, America would not exist.

De Sade held out a hand and spoke in French as well.

"Biens sur baron mais nous devons être intelligent nous aurons tout le loisir de les manipuler patience ...patience mon cher ami bientot. "

(Baron, we are on his property, we have to be smart and wait for an opportunity. We need to handle this with patience. Patience my friend. Soon.)

But when the Marquis and the Baron turned cold, sadistic smiles on him, and Tess as well, he shuddered, as if someone was walking over his grave.

De Rochefort's tone was as cold as ice as he continued.

"Listen to me, M'sieur Luthor. You have no choice. You work with me and my associates. I have many friends here in America and we could ruin your company. You would end up a pauper, miserable and alone, forced to wander the streets. I have a good relationship with your government and with some very powerful businessmen who would ... 'ow do you say, be desirous to become majority shareholders."

Take over his company? Over his dead body, he decided.

"Your empire is very powerful M'sieur Luthor, but my Illuminati brotherhood control the world and the system."

Lex drew in sharp breath. The Illuminati? They were supposedly a shadowy group which claimed to be the power behind the world's governments and were behind events designed to bring about a new world order. But Lex had never believed in it and as far as he was concerned it was just a conspiracy theory. But what if they weren't, he asked himself.

"You understand now?" de Rochefort asked, his face a cold mask.

"I don't take kindly to threats," Lex returned, a lot braver than he felt. "And as for the Illuminati, they are a myth."

De Rochefort grinned, reminding him of his father's own shark-like grins when he was about to destroy someone.

"You have one week to reflect on what I have suggested. I am staying at the hotel Sheridan. If you change your mind, you may contact me there."

Lex watched them leave, then looked at Tess.

"Find out everything you can on these people. And I mean everything."

Tess nodded. She walked out, then pulled out a small communicator as her manicured finger pressed the button on the lift. But instead of pressing the down, she pressed up. As soon as the lift doors opened, she walked in, staring straight ahead as the doors closed.

Less than thirty seconds later, Tess emerged on the roof of the Luthorcorp building. She pressed the communicator into her ear and activated it.

"Watchtower, this is Mercer. We have a problem."

The lift ground to a squeaky halt and the doors opened with a creak. A pair of feet in patent leather high-heeled shoes walked out backwards, followed by four wheels of what could only be a baby carriage. The wheels spun around and the high heels turned, walking forward.

The woman was dark-haired and beautiful with hazel eyes that seemed to be rimmed with gold. She walked with confidence as she pushed the carriage along the corridor, ignoring the looks from co-workers as well as the whispers. Her waistline still showed signs of a pregnancy, her belly soft and slightly rounded.

A hand came down to gently stop the carriage. Lois Lane-Kent stared up at her tall, dark and handsome husband. She lifted her hands, circling her eyes in what was by now a familiar gesture. Clark Kent looked absently at her, then his eyes widened.

"Honey," she said. "I know you hate wearing them, but this was your idea, remember?"

Clark hurriedly pulled his horn-rimmed spectacles out of his pocket and put them on. Instantly he went from tall and rather spectacular to stooped and, for want of a better word, nerdy. His hair was slicked back and he smiled sheepishly.

"What are the two of you doing here anyway?" he asked as he opened the door to their small office. Lois noticed the names on the door. The name Clark Kent was written above hers. She supposed it was done alphabetically, but she was top banana in this working partnership and everyone knew that. The only time Clark Kent ever got top billing was ... actually, she told herself, she still got top billing there too.

"Mara was missing Daddy," she answered finally, taking the opportunity to check out her husband's tush of steel. "She kept asking for you."

"She's a month old, Lois. She's not even talking yet."

Caught, she thought. Ah well, can't win 'em all.

"Okay, sue me. I missed this place."

"Lois, you're on maternity leave," Clark sighed.

"Yeah, and who knows what you'll mess up while I'm gone," she said as he picked their daughter up in his arms just as she started to cry. It was still amazing to her how his super-hearing could pick things up in an instant. He began to rub his daughter's back and she began to coo.

"It's amazing how you can do that," Lois marvelled.

"I guess I just have the magic touch, Lois."

"Cute Kent. But I am still getting those Ops guys to change the door."

"That's if you can find them," Clark commented dryly. "Since they heard Mad Dog Lane was on the prowl, they've developed skills in hiding that even Superman would be hard-pressed to beat."

De Rochefort paced the hotel suite. It did nothing to settle his mood. He was pissed at Luthor. But never mind, he thought. Luthor was but an insect to be crushed.

De Sade entered the room and spoke in rapid French.

"Les hommes viennent d'arriver a la ferme." (The men are on their way to the farm)

"Excellent," de Rochefort smiled. But the smile didn't reach his eyes. "What have they told the sheriff's man?"

"Exactly what you told them to say."

**One hour earlier**

"Sheriff Rutherford?"

A man aged in his late thirties was sitting at the desk in the sheriff's office in Smallville. He looked older than his age of thirty eight – he would be thirty-nine in three months. His face had a drawn, pale look to it and his eyes appeared sunken. There were dark shadows underneath.

"Yes?" he said, looking at the two men who had walked into his office. They looked official enough, with what appeared to be expensive suits.

One of them waved an identification badge which looked suspiciously like government agent. But there was something off about them. They didn't smell like government agents – or at least the government agents he knew. Since most government agents were poorly paid and these guys looked like they didn't buy off the rack.

"We'd like to talk to you about a Mr ..." the man consulted a notebook. "Clark Kent?"

"What for? And let me see those badges again."

"That isn't necessary, Sheriff," one of them said coolly. Rutherford's hackles were instantly up.

"I don't give a rat's ass what you think is necessary. I want to see those badges again. Now whip 'em out."

He peered at the badges, noting down their numbers and the departments the two men, Crawford and Hammersley, worked for. He would make some phone calls later.

"Now, what do you want with Mr Kent?"

"You're an intelligent man, Sheriff. So we'll get straight to the point. Our agency is investigating Mr Kent."

"What for?"

"That's classified."

"Like hell it is. Mr Kent is a citizen and a respected member of this community, not to mention the fact that he is the son of a United States Senator. And believe me, he could make a lot of noise, and not just through that paper he works for. If you think I'm going to look the other way, while you boys turn that farm upside down, well you can forget it."

Crawford and Hammersley walked out of the office, sighing. Obviously the sheriff's reputation as a straight arrow was right on the money. They had already decided that buying their way into getting onto the farm wasn't going to work with the sheriff.

On the other hand, they thought, there might be hope yet with the sheriff's deputy, Kelley.

"Mr Kelley," Crawford said. "Might we have a word?"

They pulled the younger man aside, out of the hearing of Rutherford.

"It must be difficult, trying to raise a family on your wages," Crawford said. They'd already done their research on the younger man and had learned he worked two jobs just to feed his family.

"It has its moments."

"We know some people. In the Bahamas. We can get you a good job. You can leave Smallville, with your family."

Hammersley took out a wad of cash and Kelley eyed it greedily. They'd known he was not above corruption and bribery, for the right price.

"The Bahamas, huh?" he said.

The two men nodded.

"And what do you want in exchange?"

"You screen any calls about any intruders at the Kent Farm. We know that Kent is working at the Planet today and his wife is out. We just need two hours max."

"Do I want to know what this is about?"

"It's better you don't. Do we have a deal?"

Kelley was still eyeing the money. He nodded cautiously, then took the money.

"You guys better not be kidding about the Bahamas."

"Sure," Crawford smiled. "We'll be in touch."

They headed to the farm and began their search. They were looking for anything which might connect Kent to Superman. Their superiors suspected that Kent was Superman, but they needed proof.

Crawford started upstairs, checking the master bedroom. There was a wedding portrait on the wall next to the bed of Lois Lane and Clark Kent. Married a year and already with a baby. He snorted in derision. Freak, he thought. He hated Superman. There was no doubt in his mind that Clark Kent was the alien. And it bugged the hell out of Crawford. Superman thought he was so superior, up on his high moral pedestal, telling people he was here to guide the people of Earth, not to interfere in human affairs. Sure, Crawford thought.

That was why the Illuminati was so interested in Superman. His presence upset their plans for the new world order.

He made his way into the next bedroom. It had been converted into a nursery. There were motifs on the walls. Fairy tales and nursery rhymes. Idiotic parents, Crawford thought. Well, it wouldn't be long before they would have the hybrid child. And once they had that, they could control Superman.

There was a yell from downstairs and Crawford ran, drawing his gun. He stared at the beautiful blonde holding Hammersley up against the wall by the throat.

Supergirl.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my friends' home?" she said with a glare that Crawford was sure would have turned them both to ashes if the alien girl had been so inclined.

TBC


	2. Episode 1: Part 2

Episode One

Part Two

"_Who are you and what are you doing in my friends' home?"_

Crawford pointed his gun at the blonde.

"Put him down Supergirl, or I shoot."

Supergirl smirked at him. "Guns can't hurt me," she said.

"No," Crawford smirked back, holding up the gun. "But Kryptonite can. We came prepared. This gun is loaded with Kryptonite bullets."

Supergirl's blue eyes turned fierce. She was assessing the situation. Unsure whether he was bluffing or not. It didn't matter, Crawford told her silently. She would give in.

She dropped Hammersley.

"Who are you?" she said.

Crawford pulled out his identification, thinking quickly.

"NSA?" she asked, staring at the badges curiously.

"We have been investigating Smallville," he told her. "Specifically some odd incidences which have occurred over the past twenty years or so."

Kara crossed her arms over her chest and glared at them. "That still doesn't explain why you're in the Kent home."

"We had hoped to talk to the Kents. Specifically Clark. He has lived in Smallville all his life."

"Why?"

"Because we suspect there are links to a terrorist organisation here."

Crawford continued to watch Supergirl. He knew she was concerned about the peace and safety of Smallville's citizens. As well as Metropolis. He paused, waiting to deliver the punchline.

"What link?"

"Do you know Lex Luthor?" he said.

She continued to glare at them. Supergirl was an enigma. She had appeared on the scene almost two years ago, raising the profile of the so-called 'superheroes'. Crawford studied her. She certainly was beautiful. What he wouldn't do to have those long, golden legs wrapped around him. His dick throbbed as he pictured himself pounding inside that hot, tight flesh.

Supergirl was saying something and he looked at her, realising he'd become distracted. He wanted to find out who she was when she wasn't in uniform. He would love to capture her. Take her as his own.

The blonde was clearly not happy at their presence. After berating them, then seeing the two men off the farm, she flew off.

Two and a half hours later, Crawford reported to de Rochefort at the hotel. Crawford bowed in total respect to his superior.

"Monsieur, je regrette, we were unable to search the farmhouse thoroughly. We were interrupted by Supergirl."

The baron swore in French.

"Who is this Supergirl?"

"We are not sure, Monsieur, but I intend to find out."

"Do that!" the baron snapped.

Crawford bowed again and left to join Hammersley at the NSA office in Metropolis where he began making a few phone calls. He had a friend in the Department of Domestic Security, and he was sure the friend could shed some light on things. There had been an incident a few years ago that he was sure ...

Crawford idly tapped some keys on his laptop and found himself searching through the net for something on the girl. He found some photographs taken of the girl when she'd first come to Metropolis. She certainly was very beautiful.

Crawford glanced at his colleague. Hammersley remained completely ignorant. But then no one had figured out that Crawford had been placed here by his superiors in the Illuminati. Members of their group had infiltrated every part of American society, from politicians to police officers. Crawford himself had been born in the Netherlands. He'd changed his name from Jan van Kraayenoord to John Crawford as part of his cover.

As he continued to stare at the images of the girl, he felt himself hardening. He moaned as quietly as he could, the brief fantasy he'd had in the farmhouse still on his mind. No one else knew about his sexual proclivities either. At least, not that he knew of.

He finally managed to reach his friend in the DDS.

"Supergirl? Yeah, I think there was some incident a few years back. But the guy you want is dead. Can't help you."

"Who was he?"

"Carter. Look, I don't know what happened, since I wasn't in Washington at the time. All I know is, Carter was claiming there was some kind of ship found in Kansas in 2007. And there was some kind of incident involving a lab tech who apparently let a girl get hold of his security pass. She broke into a DDS secure facility. And the tech claimed it was Supergirl. "

Crawford reported this information to the baron, who was pleased with the information. But it still wasn't enough. All it suggested was that Supergirl had been on Earth a lot longer than she claimed to be.

Their research showed that Clark Kent had had a cousin from Minnesota. The story was supposedly that the cousin had been the daughter of Jonathan Kent's cousin David. Crawford mused over that little bit of information. It sounded as believable as Clark Kent being from Earth, he decided. Since he knew for a fact that the cousins had been estranged and there was no way the daughter of some distant cousin would come to visit Smallville, let alone stay for an indeterminate period.

De Rochefort himself looked satisfied as he read the full report. De Sade looked on.

"This is the proof we need, no? They are cousins."

"Not yet," de Rochefort told him. "But Supergirl is clearly protective of the Kents. This may be of use to us."

"In what way?"

"Send Crawford to talk to the girl."

De Sade smirked. "Given his proclivities ..."

"I am certain he will do whatever it takes to get the girl to see things his way."

The two men smiled evilly.

Tess marched into Watchtower, flinging the doors open. Chloe glared at her.

"You know, when I had to disappear off the radar for a few months, I said you could help. I didn't say it gave you free reign to come and go whenever you pleased."

"This is important, Chloe, you know I wouldn't be here otherwise. When are you going to stop treating me like the enemy?"

"You happen to still be working for the enemy," Chloe pointed out.

"And you know very well I'm only working there to keep the League abreast on everything Luthorcorp. Especially since Lex forced Oliver out." She sighed. "Besides, it's a good thing I was there today."

Superman chose that moment to drop in. Green Arrow wasn't far behind. Oliver pulled off his hood and looked fondly at Chloe. He patted her on the backside.

"Hey," he said.

"Watch the hands Queen," she said grinning at him.

"Party pooper," he told her. "You know, we really should get some kind of bed in here," he leered suggestively at her.

"Ugh, I may throw up," Tess intoned.

Clark just raised an eyebrow. "Get used to it. Those two are still in the honeymoon phase."

"Hey, just because we have a healthy sex life," Oliver protested.

Clark sighed. He'd known what that was like once. Before Mara came along. He loved being a father – he really did, and he understood that Lois needed time to recover from the birth, but he missed those days when he and Lois could slip away for a little fun without having to worry about deadlines, or a baby screaming for attention.

Chloe had returned for good nine months after Oliver had been captured by the Suicide Squad. Chloe had explained that she had had to exchange herself, then go underground to learn what she could about the threat they were all facing. Once it had been neutralised, she had returned.

Oliver, ecstatic that she was back, had proposed and they had married three months ago. And they took every opportunity they could for some 'alone time'.

"So what's going on Tess?" Clark asked.

"Lex had some visitors today. Have you heard of a group called the Illuminati?"

Chloe quickly typed on the computer, bringing up some information on the screen. They read quickly.

"The Illuminati," she said. "Historically the Bavarian Illuminati, from the Enlightenment period. They were a secret society, founded in 1776."

"That's one interpretation," Tess told them.

"There have been others, though. Through fiction," Chloe said, reading.

"Remember the Da Vinci Code? Angels and Demons?" Clark said. "Supposedly the Illuminati were involved."

"And they're supposedly behind the push for a New World Order. Survival of the fittest."

"Yeah, but we're getting into the realms of conspiracy theories," Oliver pointed out.

"What if we're not?" Tess said. "Because I just met three people today who claim to be the Illuminati. Or one branch of it."

She quickly related to them what had happened in Lex's office.

"They're asking for an alliance with Lex? And they threatened to destroy Luthorcorp if he didn't go along with it?" Clark asked. "What did Lex say?"

"What could he say? He tossed them out of his office. But that's the problem Clark. This baron, whoever he is might just look like he can do it."

Chloe was quickly doing some research on the computer.

"Well, he's certainly connected," Chloe told them. "He's not only from one of the oldest families in France, but he's also a powerful figure in the French government.

"Yes, but why would the Illuminati want Mara?" Clark asked.

"Because she's half Kryptonian," Chloe answered, before Tess could. "And they could study her. Use her against Superman."

"But ..." Clark frowned. Then he seemed to understand. "Superman is a threat to the New World Order."

Tess nodded. "There was a journalist, forced to go underground. Several years ago he wrote several books on that subject. He postulated that every event, whether it was Kennedy's assassination or the planes flying into the World Trade Centre was all part of a plot to take control of the world's governments."

Chloe looked at them. "There's also the theory that this baron is part of another secret society."

"La Rose Noire," Tess said.

"The Black Rose?" Oliver asked. Chloe nodded at her husband.

"Essentially, it's a group who seek to influence governments all over the world. It's been going since the early seventies and one of their major interests was in creating one government. And their idea of doing this was through nuclear power. That's why a lot of the superpowers have been stockpiling nuclear weapons. And that's why the French government was undertaking nuclear testing in the Pacific. Especially places like Moruroa Atoll."

"I thought Greenpeace managed to stop that?" Tess asked.

"Maybe in the area, and that was only after French secret agents bombed one of their flagships in New Zealand."

Clark looked questioningly at Chloe.

"What?"

"The story goes that the Rainbow Warrior was visiting New Zealand, because the government had declared New Zealand a nuclear free zone. Any ships that carried nuclear weapons or was nuclear powered was not allowed in their ports. And it was believed that the DGSE _Direction Générale de la Sécurité Extérieure _sent agents to stop the Warrior from sailing to the atoll to protest the latest round of testing.

"There were apparently two bombs on board. The crew were evacuated when the first bomb exploded, but a photographer went back to get his equipment so he could take pictures of the damage and he drowned in the second blast."

"Wasn't there a huge outcry?" Oliver asked his wife.

Chloe nodded. "There were only two agents caught and arrested and the French government threatened economic sanctions which would have crippled the country if the agents weren't returned."

"Okay, so how does this relate to La Rose Noire?" Clark asked.

"De Rochefort is rumoured to have villas in Tahiti and in New Caledonia. That's near where the nuclear testing took place over thirty years ago. And while the French government admitted responsibility for the bombing, there are some that suggest that there was a bigger influence behind it."

Lois was just getting Mara off to sleep when she heard the screen door open downstairs.

"Clark?"

She turned, heart pounding as she saw Kara in the doorway.

"Kara. God, you almost gave me a heart attack."

"I'm sorry, Lois. I just wanted to make sure you and Mara were okay."

"Why wouldn't we be?"

Lois stared at the blonde, puzzled. But she quickly grew concerned when Kara told her what had happened that day.

"Does Clark know?"

"Not yet," Kara told her. "But he will."

Lois sighed. If it wasn't one thing, it was another. Were they ever going to have a peaceful life?


	3. Episode 1: Part 3

Episode One: Part Three

The Baron was less than happy with progress. Crawford had reported all he had learned about Supergirl, but it wasn't enough. He wanted proof that Clark Kent was Superman.

"Si nous pourrions peut-être obtenir quelque chose de lui, nous pourrions tester son ADN," Donatello suggested.

"Mais ils savent déjà que nous avons eu des gens fouillant dans la ferme" de Sade reminded them.

"Et s'il y avait une certaine façon de garder Superman occupé ? comme une sorte de diversion?" Donatello asked.

"Qui connaissons-nous dans le Comté Lowell ?" Rochefort asked.

"**If we could perhaps get something of his, we could test his DNA."  
"But they already know we have had people searching the farm."  
"What if there were some way of keeping Superman occupied? Like a diversion?"  
"Who do we know in Lowell County?"**

The matter was discussed at some length, with the solution fairly quickly agreed upon. They would set up a diversion in the town centre, enough to keep Superman away from the farm. Once the decision was made, the call went out. By nightfall, the right people had been contacted and the plan would be instigated.

By tomorrow evening, they would have what they wanted. And then they would bring Superman to his knees.

"The Illuminati? Clark, they're a myth!"

Clark nodded as he drained the last of his juice. "I know, Lois, but that's what Tess told us." He stood up, grabbing their plates and taking them to the kitchen to rinse before putting them in the dishwasher. Lois followed him.

"I don't like this Clark. Especially if they're after Mara."

"Then we'll have to be on our guard Lois."

"I just don't get it. The Illuminati, the society of the Black Rose. These are just conspiracy theories."

"Maybe not. Anyway, Tess and Chloe are working together to track down the journalist who went underground. Now tell me what happened this afternoon."

"All I know is what Kara told me. There were two men who claimed to be from the NSA here. She heard them snooping about. And one of them said he had Kryptonite on him."

"NSA? Well, Chloe did say something about them having people everywhere."

"You think there's a connection?"

"There has to be." Mara began crying upstairs. Clark looked at his wife. "I'll get her," he said.

Since Clark was still working full-time for the Daily Planet, plus his duties as Superman, he didn't get as much time as he liked to spend with his baby daughter. Maybe she didn't know the difference at this age, but he liked the time he had with her. Changing her, bathing her. The only thing he couldn't do was feed her.

Mara was still crying when he went into the nursery. And she smelled ripe. Clark grinned.

"Somebody's a stinky baby," he said.

Mara turned her head toward his voice and stopped crying. She knew Daddy was here to take care of things. She wriggled a little in the crib until he picked her up, putting her gently down on the changing table. He set to work, undoing the tape on her diaper. The smell hit him.

"Whoa! Who knew so much could come out of someone so tiny," he commented. Mara screwed up her face, looking as if she was going to cry again. "Oh no, don't cry, Daddy will fix it." He grabbed the baby wipes and began cleaning her up. Within a few minutes the soiled diaper had been put in the pail and a clean diaper had been put on. "Let's go see Mommy," he told his daughter, talking to her as he held her in his arms and carried her downstairs.

Lois smiled up at him from the sofa. "She okay?" she asked as she held her arms out for her hungry daughter.

"Yeah, just a dirty diaper."

Mara latched on to her mother's breast, suckling contentedly. She was a placid baby. She was yet to show any of her father's abilities, but they guessed that it would be a while yet before they'd see what abilities she would have.

"What are we going to do?" Lois asked. "If these people are after Mara ..."

"The Justice League are going to take care of it," Clark told her. "Oliver called in Bart and Victor. They'll be here tomorrow."

"Kara said she'd keep an eye on things, too. I still don't like this Smallville."

"I know, Lois. The thought of you being alone on the farm makes me uneasy. Especially with the idea that they're targeting Mara."

"My sentiments exactly."

Clark turned, startled. He'd obviously been so distracted, he'd forgotten to use his super hearing and hadn't heard the car pull up. His startled expression turned into a scowl.

"What are you doing here, Luthor?" he growled.

Mara instantly felt the change in her parents' mood and started to cry. Lois put her daughter over her shoulder and immediately started trying to soothe her. But Mara kept crying. Lois stood up and touched her husband's arm.

"Honey, why don't I take her upstairs and see if I can settle her?" There was an old rocking chair in the nursery which they often used to get their daughter to sleep. Clark nodded and watched her go upstairs, then turned back to his enemy.

"What are you doing here?" he growled.

"I know you're aware of a certain visit to my office today. You know, the only reason I tolerate Tess' betrayal is the fact that she is my sister."

"What's your point?"

"My point is, Clark, they made threats not only against your daughter, but also against my company. And I don't take kindly to threats."

"Why should I care about you and your damned company? Considering everything you do is unethical, immoral and downright illegal."

"And you make it your life's work to destroy me. This isn't about our differences, Clark. It's about a group of people who mean what they say and have the power to do it. To destroy both you and I."

"Why should it bother you that they're wanting to destroy me?"

"Personally, I couldn't care less about them wanting to destroy Superman. But I have never, nor will I ever, allow an innocent child to be caught up in our problems. You know what happened to my brother, Clark. I don't make war on children."

"That's a given. It still doesn't explain why you're here."

"Because I'm suggesting an alliance between us. A temporary truce, if you will. Until the threat is over." Lex sighed. "Look, they came to me suggesting an alliance with them because they know about my projects. They could either use that information to help or destroy me."

"Why me?"

"Haven't you heard the saying 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend', or perhaps 'better the devil you know than the devil you don't'?"

"Are you comparing me to the devil?"

Lex glared at him. "I still don't trust you. I still think you're here to conquer the world. And that opinion isn't about to change. But from what I've learned about the Illuminati, the very thought that they might one day be in charge of this planet is much more worrying."

"Why? What do you know?"

"Clark, these people will do anything, and I mean anything, to get what they want. They've already done it in various parts of the world. Like mass genocide. Terrorist attacks."

"The World Trade Center, the Rainbow Warrior," Clark nodded. "We were discussing that this afternoon."

"There's more. Clark, these people will do to this planet what the likes of Zod did to Krypton. They'll destroy it."

"How do you know about Zod and Krypton?" Clark asked.

"I have my sources," Lex said smugly. Then he sighed. "Clark, I'm not asking you to like this. But I am suggesting that we can work together on this. For our mutual benefit."

In other words, Clark thought, Lex would find a way to profit from this. That was, after all, the Luthorcorp bottom line.

Lex left the farm shortly after, hoping he had given Clark something to think about. As much as the two of them hated each other, there were bigger issues at stake here. He, for one, wasn't going to let some French aristocrat take his company out from under him. And despite their mutual enmity, he had meant what he said. He would never willingly make war on children and the three men had instantly earned his distrust by suggesting they wanted to take the child of Superman and use her in the eternal struggle between the seats of power.

Lex had his own ambitions. He planned to become the youngest president of the United States. But if the Illuminati, or whoever these people were, had their way, that wouldn't happen.


	4. Episode 1 : Part 4

Part Four

The Wild Coyote had fallen into hard times in the past few years. Its bartender/manager had been murdered after being involved in a plot to kill Lionel Luthor. Since then, no one had really wanted to continue working in the place. It had been taken over a year ago – a hangout for most of the rough crowd that hung out on the fringes of Smallville.

But on this particular evening, the bar was crowded with an even worse group. At least fifty motorcycles were parked outside the bar, and even more people were packed inside. They were drunk, or high, dressed in leathers from head to toe. This was the local chapter of a gang which considered themselves Smallville's answer to Hell's Angels. And even the roughest crowd gave them a wide berth.

The bartender had attempted to close the bar when the noise became too raucous. He'd even called in the sheriff, but that had also failed to deter the crowd. The only consolation was they'd done an inordinate amount of business that night.

Around six in the morning, a man, clearly the leader, got up.

"Let's go," he told the gang.

The bartender watched, relieved as the men left the bar. The motorcycles roared into life and sped off into the slowly lightening sky. Little did he know that the trouble was just beginning.

The midtown area of Smallville was just beginning to come to life. The milk deliveries had been done and the stores were beginning to open. Fordman's Department Store did not open until nine, but some management staff were already entering ready to start the day's work. The Beanery, which had been taken over and reopened with the destruction of the Talon, was getting ready to open for the early morning workers, wanting coffee before they started work at the Luthorcorp plant.

The fertiliser plant was still the biggest employer in the town. Its operations had expanded little in the intervening years, but there were still rumours of secret projects going on. Even during Tess Mercer's reign as CEO of Luthorcorp, she interfered little with the day to day workings of the plant, and had little interest in any of the secret projects. Especially after she'd changed sides.

When Lex had returned from the dead and taken over the helm at Luthorcorp once again, he'd chosen not to rebuild the Talon. It was now a parking garage, which had been Lex's original plan when he'd bought the building. Lex now cared little for the economic problems of the town, his main interest in controlling Metropolis.

Smallville had seen a number of economic woes in the past five years. Many farms had already been broken up, the land sold, the owners either choosing to get jobs at the plant or moving on to other towns and cities. The recession had hit the small town, named for Ezra Small, a man who, it was claimed, had the ability to see the future. His prophetic visions were written in code, but some suggested he saw the coming of a visitor from another world who would be raised by humans.

The second meteor shower had been the catalyst. Restoration and rebuilding had, for a short while, eased the economic burden, the worldwide recession that followed saw to it that the town never recovered from the disaster that struck in the spring of 2005.

At six-thirty in the morning, the streets were mostly empty. Very few cars were on the road. All seemed fairly quiet and peaceful. But it was soon to be shattered by the roar of motorcycles through the main streets.

They made passes in groups through each street, using whatever weapon they had available to break windows and cause as much destruction as they possibly could in the shortest amount of time. Within minutes, those few staff cowering behind shop counters had called the police, but Sheriff Rutherford could do little to stop the invasion. He was short-staffed and ill-equipped.

He parked his car across the road, an attempt to block the motorcycles. He ordered his two other men with vehicles to try and block the sidewalk. But they were only three men and they didn't stand a chance against the onslaught of fifty or more men who caused violence and mayhem on a regular basis.

A young woman was walking down the street. She was aged around twenty, slight, slender figure. She was wrapped warmly against the cool Fall wind. As she turned down the street, she stopped, staring in horror at the scene awaiting her. There were at least half a dozen men with weapons ranging from shotguns to baseball bats, smashing windows, doors, parked cars. With a scream, she turned in the opposite direction and began running. Two of the men saw her and laughed, giving chase. She screamed in terror.

Rutherford looked at his men.

"We need help," he said. Neither of his men were sure whether he was actually speaking to them or himself.

Rutherford went to his car, picking up his radio.

"Dolores, patch me through to a number will you?" He paused. "Yeah, 555-0145."

Clark blinked, rolling over and squinting in the sunlight peeping through the drapes. He was used to rising early. At least in the old days when the farm had been a working farm, he would have. But on weekends now, he took advantage of the time he had to sleep in.

Something had woken him, but he wasn't sure what. He'd been dreaming. Of Krypton, no less. Of showing his birth parents his wife and baby daughter. Lara had held his daughter in her arms, her hair shining and golden in the light, smiling down at the infant.

"She's beautiful, Kal-El."

"We are proud, my son," Jor-El smiled in a rare showing of emotion. From what Clark had been told, Kryptonians were not emotional as a whole.

Mara had started to cry, the cries echoing oddly in the crystal structure. Then there was the sound of something ringing.

"Clark, phone for you."

Clark pushed back the bedclothes, quickly getting to his feet and pulling up his jeans. He padded barefoot downstairs and looked at his wife, who was sitting in Jonathan Kent's old armchair, the baby at her breast.

"Lois?"

"It's the sheriff," she said, pointing to the cordless phone next to her. He picked up the receiver.

"Sheriff?"

"I apologise for disturbing you and your wife so early in the morning Mr Kent. But I was hoping you might be able to contact Superman for me. We have trouble in the town."

"What kind of trouble?"

The sheriff quickly outlined the problem. It seemed a motorcycle gang had started causing havoc in the town. The sheriff called them the Wild Bush 300. They were a Kansas answer to other motorcycle gangs and at least three hundred members strong in the Kansas chapter. At least fifty, maybe more, had invaded the town.

Hanging up the phone, Clark quickly dialled another number.

"Chloe ," he began.

"Do you realise it's six-forty-five on a Saturday morning, Clark?" she asked.

"I know. Sorry. But I need Oliver. We've got trouble. Tell him to round up the others. Whoever he can find."

"What is it?"

He quickly told her. "Look, Superman can't handle this alone."

Lois looked at him.

"A motorcycle gang?" she asked.

"Yeah. I'm going to change," he said, zipping back upstairs to change into his Superman uniform. Within seconds he was back downstairs.

"Clark, be careful," Lois told him.

"I plan to be," he said, opening the screen door and taking off into the air. Here, at least, they were fairly isolated, and there was little chance of his identity being exposed.

A minute later, Superman touched down beside the sheriff's car.

"Superman," he said. "It seems Mr Kent reached you. Did he explain the situation?"

"Yes." Superman was already scanning the street and saw the young girl being threatened by two of the men. She was trapped against a brick wall in the alley. He took off again, landing right behind the two men.

"Problem, gentlemen?" he said.

The two men turned. One pulled out a large bowie knife, attempting to slash Superman.

"New in town?" Superman inquired. He grabbed both of them by the collars of their shirts, lifting them up in the air. Their feet dangled. They stared at him, then each other, then back at him. With a smile, Superman dumped them both in the trash bin. "Just taking out the garbage," he quipped. With his heat vision, he welded down the lid.

Superman turned to the cowering girl.

"Are you all right, miss?" he asked.

He knew the girl. She was a neighbour. She worked part-time in the Beanery and was studying at Central Kansas A&M.

"Yes, Superman, thank you. I'm fine." She wasn't. She was shaking like a leaf. But he let her go.

Turning, he went back to the problem at hand, trying to gather as many more of the gang as possible. But even he couldn't round up fifty men in a short time. After an hour, he was relieved to see Oliver on the roof, aiming arrows at the tyres of each motorcycle.

While he was taking care of the next lot, another three were bowled over like pins and he knew Bart had joined the fray.

Lois had just laid the baby down and had turned the television off. KPAZ was reporting live from downtown Smallville. The female blonde reporter was gushing enthusiastically for the efforts of the Justice League who were kept busy rounding up the gang.

She heard a crash from upstairs.

"Who's there?" she asked.

Grabbing an iron poker from the fire, she started up the stairs.

"Someone there?" she asked. "I must warn you I have a ... weapon."

There was still no answer. Lois began to assume she had imagined things. She heard it before she saw it. There was a slight hissing sound, then she saw smoke.

"What the hell?" she said to herself.

No sooner had she spotted the smoke then she began to feel dizzy and nauseous. Fighting the faintness, she struggled to get to her daughter's room, but the blackness was already overcoming her. She collapsed to the floor.

Crawford smiled down at the fallen body of Lois Lane-Kent, then dragged it into the nursery. He continued his search through the house, confident there would be no one to stop him. He checked in the bathroom, gathering everything he thought would give him the evidence he needed, placing them in small bags which he sealed.

Stepping back out into the hallway, he started down the room to the nursery.

"Dude! Something I can help you with?"

Crawford stared at the man standing at the top of the stairs. He saw him glance into the room that had become the child's nursery, then spot the woman's body on the floor.

Crawford didn't understand. The gas should have been enough to knock out an elephant. But this young man wasn't even showing any ill effects. Granted, it had been a few minutes and the gas had had some time to dissipate, but he still should have shown some signs.

AC glared at the man. Clearly the man had tried to do something to hurt his friends and he didn't stand for it.

Oliver had called him, asking him to come to the farm, since he was in the area. He knew there were problems with gang activity in town, and he had been surprised that Oliver hadn't asked him to go there, but now he was glad that Oliver had asked him to keep an eye on Lois and the baby.

AC grabbed the man by the collar. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

Crawford struggled to get out of AC's grip, thrashing. He felt himself being pulled downstairs. Fortunately, Crawford had once again come prepared. They were faced by another of the Baron's men, holding a gun.

"Drop him," the man ground out harshly.

AC bit his lip, but did as he was told. The man lifted his weapon and cold-cocked him, knocking him out.

"I've got what I needed," Crawford told him. The two men walked out of the farmhouse without a backward glance.

Clark and the others quickly rounded up the remaining men and handed them over to the sheriff, who had also called in the State police. The gang leader was taken into custody and would be held at the Smallville jail.

Not waiting for his friends, knowing he would be reporting to Watchtower later, Clark flew back to the farm. He quickly noticed AC on the floor. He was already stirring, a large bump on the back of his head. With trepidation, Clark sped up the stairs. Lois was still passed out on the floor of the nursery.

Clark spotted the gas bomb and saw red. Someone had tried to hurt his family. Picking up his wife in his arms, he carried her to their bedroom and lay her down on the bed. Then he checked on his daughter, who was sleeping peacefully. The gas hadn't drifted into the nursery and Mara was unharmed.

Going back downstairs, he saw Oliver waiting for him, tending to AC, pressing an ice pack to his head.

"What the hell's happened?" Oliver asked.

"It was a diversion. To get me out of the house. I'm sure of it," Clark said.

"What are you going to do?"

"Talk to the leader. Lois is still passed out upstairs. They gassed her."

"Oh my god! Is she all right?"

"Yeah. And Mara's fine. Stay with them. I'm going to the jail."

"Clark, don't do anything rash."

"I don't intend to," Clark said, but even Oliver knew he was lying.

At the jail, he persuaded the sheriff's man to let him talk to the man in the cell. As soon as he strode in, the man glared at him.

"Who sent you?" Clarkasked, in his most intimidating tone.

The man refused to look at him. Clark lifted him, pushing him against the wall.

"Tell me," he ground out.

"You won't beat them," the man said. "They're everywhere."

"Who?"

"The Illuminati," the man grinned.

The Baron received the report from Crawford with a smile.

"It begins," he said.

END OF EPISODE ONE


	5. Episode 2 - Part 1

Episode Two: Revenge

Part One

1989

Yves de Rochefort had yet to inherit the lands and title which would grant him the right to be called 'Baron'. Yet, as was his breeding, he was already known for his arrogance and his certainty that he was vastly superior and a servant of none. At the age of twenty-nine, he had already spent years travelling the world and learning his responsibilities as befit his station.

De Rochefort was not a naive man. He had been taught from an early age about his family's involvement in secret societies. They considered it not only a privilege and an honour, but their right as titled members of the French upper crust to be members of such organisations as La Rose Noir, the Skull and Bones society, the League of Shadows and such like. There were many names for them, but they all were controlled by one – the Illuminati.

Their plan was simple. Create an environment which would necessitate the forming of a world government. Either through acts of terrorism, economic depressions and world wars. It would be a slow process. They would not make the same mistakes of their predecessors. Woodrow Wilson, supposedly a member of the Progressive Movement in the early years of the twentieth century, had been one of their 'puppets'. But his League of Nations plan had been a failure. The United Nations was better, but it was seriously undermined by various international bodies who had no interest in being overruled by it.

But they could wait. The Illuminati had been working toward their goal for centuries and they learned from their mistakes. Now they were working on creating an era of violence, terror, and moral bankruptcy, secretly financing those they saw fit to come to power. Those they decided would make the perfect puppets for their plan to eventually create an outcry for a world government.

Nothing, Yves de Rochefort decided, would get in their way.

But something was about to occur that could change all that.

"Dr Swann will see you now."

De Rochefort studied the brunette. Bridgette Crosby was attractive. Aged in her early thirties, she had large, luminous eyes, clear, olive skin and a slender figure. He had learned she was French-Canadian by birth, but had lived in the United States for some years.

He followed Bridgette through the New York Planetarium, musing why Virgil Swann had chosen to live in such a place. He had known the man had become eccentric, ever since a car accident had robbed him of the use of his body, turning him into a tetraplegic, and a virtual recluse. But it was his quest to find life outside the solar system that had driven him here. Dismissed as a crackpot by the greater scientific community, nevertheless, Virgil Swann had refused to compromise and had been adamant his search would not be fruitless.

"Dr Swann," he said with a smile which did not reach his eyes. "Thank you for seeing me."

Virgil Swann might be in a wheelchair, and not in complete control of his faculties, but his mind was razor sharp and his eyes reflected that sharpness. He glared at this man, this interloper. He disliked him on sight. From his long dark hair to his patrician nose.

"What brings a member of La Rose Noire here?" Virgil asked.

De Rochefort raised an eyebrow at him in surprise. It was clear he had not realised Virgil's research would have gone that in-depth. De Rochefort started to speak in French but Virgil quickly canted his head in a gesture of dismissal, and if not a little anger.

"At least have the courtesy when you come into my sanctuary to address me in my native language," he said coldly. De Rochefort's eyes flashed in anger and arrogance, but he didn't voice his thoughts.

"I apologise, monsieur Swann."

"'Doctor', if you don't mind," Virgil said coolly.

De Rochefort made a small bow. "Doctor, then. I came to discuss with you your meetings with Lionel Luthor, Robert Queen and Edward Teague. I believe you call yourselves the Veritas Society."

"It is merely an astronomy club," Virgil told him, refusing to show his alarm. How had this arrogant man known about the society. He was tempted to glance at Bridgette. She was one of the few who did know about the true nature of the society.

"You place a great deal of trust in these individuals, all for an astronomy society. Is that really its purpose, or is there something darker in its nature? The word Veritas ..."

"Is Latin for truth," Virgil answered. "I am aware of that. Roman mythology names her as the goddess of Truth yet she was an elusive creature."

"Ah, but truth is always elusive, is it not?"

"When you consider universal truths, perhaps. And men have died seeking the answer to those truths."

"An unusual title, then, for an astronomy society, do you not think so? I do not believe it is an astronomy society, Dr Swann," de Rochefort said, placing emphasis on the name. "I believe it is so much more. Something far more dangerous."

"Is that so?"

"I believe you are searching for someone known as 'the Traveller'."

This time, Virgil's eyes did flick to Bridgette. She flinched under his gaze and he knew that she had spoken out of turn. The two of them had once shared an intimate relationship, but that had ended after his accident. He had chosen to live the life of a virtual hermit, but she had continued to work with him and for him. He now knew she had betrayed him.

"I know nothing of such things," Virgil said, returning to gaze steadily at de Rochefort. "This interview is at an end. Good day, sir."

With a dismissive flick, Virgil turned his wheelchair and left the room. Bridgette glanced at the visitor.

"I'll see you out."

Present Day

As Yves de Rochefort gazed out of the window of his hotel room in Metropolis, he reflected on that conversation. Both Swann and Bridgette Crosby were dead. One at the hand of Lionel Luthor, the other, he believed, at the murderous hands of Genevieve and Jason Teague.

Genevieve, he recalled, had ancestry dating back to medieval times in the French aristocracy. It had been prophesied centuries earlier of the coming of - if not the messiah, then a being with the power to rule the world. To bring the Earth into a new age of heroism. The Illuminati could not have that.

He had known, when he talked to Virgil Swann, that the Veritas Society had known about the Traveller, the being now known worldwide as Superman. He had hoped to persuade Dr Swann into giving him everything he knew about the being from another world. Such a being would be the perfect instrument with which the Illuminati could have launched their quest for power. If he could be controlled.

Had the young boy who had become Clark Kent, and thus Superman, been raised by a member of that society, the Earth would be much different.

Donatello entered the room. He bowed deeply to the baron.

"Mon ami," he said, "Les résultats du test sont de retour. L'ADN récupéré sur objets trouvés dans la maison Kent ne ressemble à rien que nous ayons jamais connue. Clark Kent est Superman. C'est confirmé."

De Rochefort nodded. "Bien."

"Nous avons aussi la transcription de l'équipement de surveillance implantés il ya quelques jours. Lex Luthor a effectué une visite à la ferme des Kent le même jour ou nous avons visité la Luthorcorp."

"Tout comme je l'avais prédit," de Rochefort told him. "Luthor a toujours été machiavélique dans son approche des affaires et de la guerre."

"Somme nous en guerre?"

"Pas encore ,mon ami," de Rochefort smirked. "Mais c'est clairement la croyance Luthor qu'il ya un avantage à former une alliance avec son ennemi, pour battre un ennemi commun. Je comprends Luthor. Plus je le a été enseigné par son père pour faire des affaires comme l'on pourrait mener une bataille. Il a été élevée avec les écrits des grands , Socrate, Machiavel et Sun Tzu. Avez-vous jamais lu l'Art de la guerre, mon ami?"

"Je ne peut pas dire que je l'est fait."

"Nous devons enseigner une leçon de Bonne maniere a Luthor," de Rochefort smirked. "Nous lui avons offer tune alliance et il a choisi de travailler contre nous."

"Et qu'est-ce que Sun Tzu a à voir avec cela?"

"Sun Tzu dit: 'dans l'art pratique de la guerre, la meilleure chose est que dans tous les pays prendre l'ennemi intact et entier est meilleurs que de le briser et de détruire'."

"Vous proposez de prendre sa compagnie?"

"Précisement. Mais le plan est a une soeur."

"Nous l'avons rencontrée. Tess Mercer. Elle a été adoptée quand elle avait cinq ans, et e elevée en Louisiane par un imbécile qui ne savait pas lire, et abusé d'elle je crois."

"Bah! L'homme était un fou! Quant à Lionel Luthor, il a abandoné petite fille, mais bon il est mort. Elle est une femme belle, non? "

"Tres belle."

"Ensuite, cela ne serait pas difficile pour vous, mon ami. Pour citer le philosophe une fois de plus, il est essential de recherché les agents de l'ennemi qui sont venus à faire de l'espionnage contre vous ensuite de les soudoyer pour vous server. Leur donner des instructions et des s'occuper deux.."

Donatello smiled. "Vous voulez que je séduise la bélle Tess Mercer."

De Rochefort looked at his friend. Donatello was an attractive man, and, being Italian, well versed in the art of seduction. He was sure that Tess Mercer would indeed be seduced.

"Et la persuader de travailler pour nous."

Donatello bowed again. "Ce serat fait monsieur et avec le plus grand plaisir."

_**** Translation:**_

"_**My friend, the test results have come back. The DNA recovered from the items found in the Kent home is like nothing we have ever known. Clark Kent is Superman. It is confirmed."**_

"_**Good."**_

"_**We also have the transcripts from the surveillance equipment planted several days ago. Lex Luthor made a visit to the Kent Farm the same day we visited Luthorcorp."**_

"_**It is as I predicted." Luthor has always been Machiavellian in his approach to business, and in war."**_

"_**Are we at war?"**_

"_**Not yet, my friend. But it is clearly Luthor's belief that there is an advantage in forming an alliance with his enemy, to beat a common foe. I understand Luthor. More than he knows. Luthor was taught by his father to conduct business as one would conduct a battle. He has been raised with the writings of the great philosophers. Plato, Socrates, Machiavelli, and Sun Tzu. Did you ever read the Art of War, my friend?"**_

"_**I cannot say that I have."**_

"_**We must teach Luthor a lesson in manners. We offered him an alliance and he chose to work against us."**_

"_**And what does Sun Tzu have to do with this."**_

"_**Sun Tzu said 'in the practical art of war, the best thing of all is to take the enemy's country whole and intact; to shatter and destroy it is not so good'."**_

"_**You are suggesting taking his company?"**_

"_**Precisely. But the plan is twofold. Luthor has a sister."**_

"_**We met her. Tess Mercer. She was adopted when she was five years old, and raised in Louisiana by an imbecile who could not read, and abused, I believe."**_

"_**Bah! The man was a fool! As for Lionel Luthor, abandoning the girl-child, it is good that he is dead. She is a beautiful woman, no?"**_

"_**Very beautiful."**_

"_**Then it would be no hardship for you, my friend. To quote the philosopher once again, 'it is essential to seek out enemy agents who have come to conduct espionage against you and to bribe them to serve you. Give them instructions and care for them'."**_

"_**You wish me to seduce the beautiful Tess Mercer."**_

"_**And persuade her to work for us."**_

"_**It shall be done, Monsieur. It will be my pleasure."**_

Lois stamped her foot impatiently as she waited for the elevator to take her to the top floor of Watchtower. It had been an eventful week. What with the agent, whoever he was, coming to the house at the weekend, then Clark running, or should that be flying, she thought wryly, around trying to find the agent and find out what, if anything, had been taken from them, she hadn't had a moment's peace.

Mara was the only one of them who seemed to be undisturbed by everything that had happened. She had slept peacefully during the home invasion, and she hadn't been disturbed by the sedating gas. Being half-Kryptonian had its advantages, Lois supposed.

Since that weekend, Oliver had offered them a place to stay in the clock tower penthouse. Given that the farm had been invaded twice in just as many days, Clark and Lois hadn't wanted to face being alone and so isolated on the farm, and they had readily agreed to Oliver's offer. It made for slightly crowded accommodations, with the little family, and Chloe and Oliver together in the apartment, but they had made it work for the last week.

The elevator doors opened and Lois walked out into chaos. Chloe and Oliver were busy packing documents and two laptop computers into briefcases.

"Going somewhere?" she asked.

Chloe looked at her. "Yeah. We found the journalist. The one who went underground after writing all those books about the Illuminati."

"Where is he?" Lois asked.

"Canada."

"Ooh, make sure you bring me back some maple donuts," Lois grinned. "They make the best ones there. How long will you be gone?"

"Dunno," Oliver answered. "Depends on how long it takes to find this guy. We have a last known address, but ..."

"He may not be there," Chloe finished. "It's a lead, and it's the best one we have. How are you guys doing?"

"Let's see. Clark is driving me crazy with his search for these Illuminati guys, I'm going stir crazy with cabin fever, and Mara ... Actually, Mara's the only one who seems to be taking it in her stride."

"She's five weeks old, Lois. It's not like she understands what's going on." Her cousin smiled at her and picked up the infant from the carrier.

"I know," Lois sighed.

The elevator doors opened again and Tess came out. "Lois," she said.

The two women would never be close friends. Lois acknowledged that. And Tess was often a little too cool in her demeanour.

"What did Lex say about you going on this trip?"

"What could he say," Tess shrugged. "I'm supposedly his second-in-command, but that doesn't make him my boss. He is my brother. Biologically speaking. He did ask me to ask Clark if he'd given any thought to what they talked about." She turned and looked at Lois. "Do you know what he's talking about?"

"Lex suggested an alliance." Lois snorted. "As if I'd trust Chrome Dome."

"I don't know," Chloe mused. "I mean, if I was in his position, I would go with the lesser of two evils."

The open panel in the dome was filled by the red and blue clad form of Superman, who chose to descend slowly into the centre of the Watchtower.

"Boy Scout," Oliver nodded.

"Archer," Clark returned. He turned to his wife and kissed her. "Everything okay?" he asked.

"Just cabin fever," she said.

"I know, honey, but it's safer at the moment. Has Kara been by?" he asked of his friends.

"Not yet. I think she was still trying to track down that NSA guy."

"Yeah, she was going to go see Mom in Washington. See if she could use her contacts there."

"And you still have no idea what they broke into the house for?" Chloe asked, rocking Mara gently.

Clark shook his head. "We did find the surveillance devices, but how long they'd been there for, I don't know. I just wish I knew what these people have planned."

"Yeah, well, hopefully we'll get some answers in Vancouver," Chloe told him. Mara had begun to cry, so she handed the baby over to her father. Clark looked down at his daughter, adoration in his gaze.

"Hopefully," he answered softly. But his expression showed concern.

Oliver looked at him. "We can take care of ourselves, Boy Scout."

"I know, Ollie, but it's just the thought of who these people are and what they can do. It worries me."

Chloe grabbed some small devices from the desk. "That's why we'll have these," she said, handing one to her husband and another to Tess. "They sit in your inner ear and it means we'll be able to keep in constant communication. If anything goes wrong, they'll pick up on any one of our tells."

"Tells? What do you mean?"

"These are designed to pick up minute changes in the body, like blood pressure. You know how lie detectors pick up the slightest changes in blood pressure. Well, these are a more sophisticated form. They were designed by a guy who used to work for an outfit in Delaware. Well, work would be a relative term," Chloe said with a wry smile.

The others looked at her with puzzled expressions.

"It's a long story," she said. "I'll explain it to you someday. Anyway, the signal will come through the computers here and send out an alert to whoever's listening through their own communication links." She picked up her briefcase. "Come on hon, we don't want to miss our flight."

"It's a private plane, honey," Oliver reminded her. "It goes when we do."

"Yeah, yeah, move it or lose it, Queen."

Oliver grinned at his friends as the couple turned to leave. "Why did I marry her again?"

"You're a masochist?" Lois said smartly, earning a growl from her cousin as she turned in the elevator car.

Clark put his arm around his wife as their friends left. They needed to get to the bottom of this. And soon.


	6. Episode 2: Part 2

Part Two

The plane descended into Vancouver and Chloe looked at her husband. He looked nervous for some reason.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'm just a little worried," he said. "These Illuminati guys are clearly after Mara. But what could they want with her?"

"Well, it's a good bet that it's the same as any other so-called super-power would. If they can't control Superman by one means, they'll control him through his family."

"This could tear them apart. Clark and Lois."

"No. They love each other."

"This is something that Clark's always feared though. Remember? That his family could be used against him."

"Ollie, we've done all we can to protect Mara. They're staying at the clock tower, and it's far more secure than the farm. It's not like these Illuminati guys have super powers."

"But they are powerful," Ollie reminded her. "Who knows who they have in their pockets. My door man could be one of them."

Chloe got up and went to sit in his lap. The plane had completed its descent and was taxiing along the runway.

"Honey, you can't worry about what ifs. And we're doing the right thing by trying to track these people down."

Tess came in from the other cabin. "Chloe's right," she said. "The best chance we have at beating these people is to learn what we can about them. And as for who's in their pockets, well I think we just have to be careful who we trust."

De Rochefort looked at his companion.

"Are you certain?" he asked.

"Yes, my friend. My contact says the Queens are on their way to Vancouver. We believe they are searching for a journalist."

"Ah yes, the illustrious journalist Mark Anders." Anders had published several books on what he claimed was the conspiracy for world power. "They will be in for a surprise, no? Call our friends in the Vancouver police and have them arrest the couple." He turned back to the window. "And what news of our new acquisition?"

"The mayor is prepared to meet with you this afternoon."

"Excellent."

De Rochefort contemplated the situation. The Illuminati had been waiting hundreds of years to achieve ultimate power. They were a patient people, prepared to wait it out even longer. Each step they made was a step toward victory. This new acquisition in Smallville was just another step in that process.

"What do you want to do about the Kents?"

"I understand they have gone into hiding, yet Superman is still visible. Such arrogance," he spat. "He believes he is invulnerable, no?"

"We will find the woman and the child," his friend said.

Kara had donned her dark wig and glasses, choosing to go undercover as she flew to Washington. By conventional means rather than by her own. Clark had emphasised the need to keep a low profile and given how worried he was about his wife and daughter, Kara was only too happy to comply.

She didn't like flying by conventional means, however. In the sky, flying by her own power, she wasn't subject to the usual issues that came with flying these huge, lumbering behemoths. And this plane was being buffeted by high winds and rough turbulence.

She also didn't like the idea of being stuck in the narrow seats, Especially since there was a child sitting right behind her kicking the back of her seat.

Kara had sat for the last half hour wondering for about the twenty-seventh time why she had chosen to do this. But there was more than her own ego at stake here. These people had intruded twice on her family and she wasn't going to stand for it.

The kid behind her kicked her seat once more, making her lurch forward. Her drink, which had been sitting on the pull-down tray in front of her, fell over, soaking her lap. Kara tried to count to ten, meditate, whatever, but as she felt the sticky orange juice drip down her leg, she decided enough was enough.

She turned in her seat, peering at the kid behind her. He was about eight years old and clearly a little brat. He just smirked at her. The little monster, she thought. He knew exactly what he'd done. The mother's attention was diverted elsewhere so Kara took a chance, grabbing the fork she'd used to eat her dinner with. It was tough plastic and certainly not easily broken. Well, she thought cynically, they clearly didn't want to take a chance that it might be used to stab someone.

"See this?" she said in a low voice. She bent the fork until it broke. "This is going to be you if you don't stop kicking my seat. Got me?"

The kid's eyes went wide and scared. Kara had remained perfectly calm, her voice reasonable throughout the ten second exchange, but she got her point across.

There wasn't a peep out of the kid until the plane descended into Dulles Airport. Fortunately, there were no other incidents, which she found a relief.

As she made her way out of the terminal, she saw a man standing with a placard. He looked official, wearing a chauffeur's uniform of black wool trousers, black blazer and white shirt, with a black tie, as well as a peaked cap. The placard had the name Linda Danvers on it.

"That's me," she said as she stepped in front of the man.

"Miss Danvers. Your aunt sends her apologies that she could not be here to greet you herself. Please come this way. I will take you to her apartment."

"Thank you," she said politely, following the man.

As they prepared to leave the plane, Tess' phone rang.

"Tess Mercer. Lex? What is it?" She looked up at Oliver and Chloe. 'I'll catch up,' she mouthed, going back into the plane. Oliver and Chloe just looked at each other and sighed.

They had a car waiting for them as they left the airport. Tess called them as they left.

"Sorry guys, I'm going to be here a while. I don't want to hold you up."

"That's fine, Tess," Oliver said. "Don't worry about it."

As they drove through the streets of Vancouver, it began to rain. At first it was just spots, then it began to rain heavily.

"Great," Ollie sighed. He felt it was a sign of things to come.

"Ollie," Chloe said, clutching his arm. "Stop worrying."

"Chloe, I can't help it. It seems like every time we seem to be on track, something happens to screw it up again."

"Like what?"

"Like when you disappeared for nearly nine months."

"It was more like eight months," she said. "Honey, why are you still ..."

"And then, you know, after Lois and Clark's party, you decided to take that job in Star City."

"Yeah, and you came with me. Star City's where you were born, Ollie."

Chloe had taken a job as a reporter with the Star City register, but the move had been twofold. She had wanted a base to work from so she could track down other superheroes and recruit them to the Justice League. Oliver had joined her there, returning to the city where he had grown up.

When Lex had returned, Oliver had had some legal issues to sort out. Lex had threatened to sue him for trying to take Luthorcorp illegally. For the past month, Oliver had been in Metropolis to sort out the legal wrangles.

Chloe, meanwhile, had been concerned that Tess might have fallen back into her old ways when she'd rejoined Lex at Luthorcorp. The two women had been sniping at each other ever since, especially since Tess had started redecorating Watchtower as if it was an extension of her own personality. In some ways, Chloe still thought of Watchtower as hers, even though it had been a year or so since she'd actually worked as Watchtower.

Tess had, of course, explained that the only reason she was at Luthorcorp, working under her brother, was so she could get information about his activities to Watchtower. But Lex wasn't stupid. He knew Tess had switched sides. He'd made that very clear.

But that was neither here nor there. Right now, they had bigger issues to worry about than Lex Luthor.

Chloe tried to reassure her husband.

"Honey, I know things are bad at the moment, but we'll get back on track. I promise."

Oliver looked down at her, a soft smile on his face. "It's just that, well, you know, we have been talking about having a family."

"And we will," she said. "I promise."

She looked out the window. They were pulling up beside an apartment building that reminded Chloe of some brownstones she'd seen in New York. Except this one was in much worse condition. It looked like the kind of place a journalist would use if he wanted to remain anonymous.

"Come on, honey," she said, grabbing his hand as she got out of the car. They ran through the driving rain to the entry, hurrying up the cracked and worn concrete steps.

"Careful you don't slip, babe," Oliver told his wife.

The building was definitely well overdue for some maintenance. He glanced at the nameplates on the main entryway. There was nothing to indicate a journalist lived there. But Chloe seemed to know where they were going, pressing the buzzer for the third level apartment. There was no answer.

Chloe turned and frowned at him.

"Maybe he's out," Oliver said, unnecessarily.

She shrugged. "Maybe." But she looked doubtful. Oliver wasn't sure if she'd made any effort to contact the journalist before they'd come here.

He still felt uneasy, as if hairs on the back of his neck were standing up. There was something not quite right about this.

"Maybe we should go, Chloe," he started to suggest, but then a woman came out of the door, holding an umbrella. Chloe took the opportunity to grab the door before it closed and went in, glancing at Oliver. Sighing, he followed her in.

Chloe ran up the stairs to the third floor, following the dingy corridor to apartment three fourteen. She knocked on the door, but they quickly realised there was no point. The door was open. Frowning, Chloe entered the apartment.

"Hello?" she asked.

Oliver stared. The apartment was a mess. Either the writer had left in a hurry or someone had been searching the place. Or both. Oliver had a feeling it was both.

From the dishes left in the sink, they decided that they'd only just missed the man by a day or so. Dejected, Chloe and Oliver left the building, calling Tess at the plane.

"Dead end," Chloe sighed. "He's gone."

"Mr and Mrs Queen?"

Oliver turned and looked at the two men. They were wearing slickers against the heavy rain, their peaked caps dripping wetly.

"Something we can do for you gentlemen?" he asked.

"Mr Queen, we are under orders to take you and your wife into custody."

"What?"

"You are under arrest."

Kara was escorted into the main lobby of the apartment building Martha Kent lived in. It was certainly quite luxurious compared to the farm house, with marble flooring. The lobby itself had several couches where tenants could sit with guests. A coffee shop was installed on the floor and the delicious aroma of coffee brought back memories of Kara's brief sojourn at the Talon.

"Miss Danvers?"

Kara turned and looked at the older man. He was probably in his sixties, with fine, grey hair. He wore a dark uniform – obviously the official uniform for staff in this building.

"If you'll follow me," he said as she acknowledged him, "I will take you to your aunt's apartment."

"That's very kind of you," she returned. "Thank you."

"Is your luggage to follow?" he asked politely.

"Oh no," Kara smiled, showing him the duffel bag she was carrying. "I'm only staying a couple of days."

"I see. Well, come with me," he said, waving her into the middle of a bank of three elevators.

Kara stood nervously in the elevator, wondering what all the fuss was about. Even after having spent the last two years on Earth, getting to know their customs, she still had trouble adjusting. There were still some things humans did that puzzled her. It was so much easier for Kal-El. No, Clark, she told herself. She had to remember to call him by his Earth name when he was in the Clark Kent guise.

The doorman, or whatever he was, showed Kara to Martha's apartment, opening the door for her.

"Your aunt should be along shortly. She sent a message saying you should make yourself at home."

"Thank you again," she said.

Kara went into the apartment, looking around. It was simply furnished, and a perfect reflection of Martha's tastes. There was a vase filled with roses on the counter and Kara smiled. She wondered if they were from Perry White. She knew Martha was still seeing Perry, but they still hadn't discussed marriage. Perry was too busy being an editor and Martha was still working as a senator.

Kara opened the refrigerator and pulled out the pitcher of juice she found there, pouring herself a glass. She drank slowly, wandering around the apartment. There was a picture of Lois and Clark at their wedding on the mantelpiece. And another of Lois, big with child. A picture of Jonathan Kent stood next to it. Kara liked the look of the man. He seemed a warm, friendly kind of man. Clark had told her stories about growing up with his father. She felt she would have liked the man a lot.

There was laughter in the hallway and Kara looked around as the door opened. Martha came in, followed by a tall, dark-haired man and a woman with dark hair pulled up in a French knot. Kara looked at the woman, who wore glasses similar to the ones she wore for her disguise.

"Linda," Martha said, greeting her niece with a hug. Kara noticed quickly how Martha had used her other name, rather than her Kryptonian one.

"Aunt Martha, it's good to see you. I haven't see you since ..."

"...Lois and Clark's wedding," Martha agreed.

_It really had been a beautiful wedding. Clark and Lois had looked so in love as they said their vows. Kara had watched her cousin marry the woman he loved and she wished she could have that some day. _

"Oh, sweetheart, this is Steve Trevor. And his assistant Diana Prince. They're just here for some papers. Steve, Diana, this is my niece, Linda Danvers."

Kara nodded politely. "Mr Trevor. Miss Prince."

"Miss Danvers," the man returned. "or do you prefer Linda."

She smiled. "Linda's fine. Do you work with Aunt Martha?" she said, noticing Martha going into the next room which she assumed was the office.

"No, I work with the Secret Service now," he said. "I used to be in the Air Force. Retired now, of course."

"Oh?" Kara raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"I was stationed in Europe for a time. My squadron was out on manoeuvres when my plane went off course and I crashed near an island in the Greek Isles. My injuries sustained in the crash unfortunately meant I was forced to retire."

"I'm sorry," she said.

Diana was looking at her with an odd expression. Almost as if she was remembering something. But Kara didn't have a chance to ask her about it as Martha came out of the office.

"Here they are, Steve," she said, handing him a folder.

"Thanks Mrs Kent." He handed the folder to Diana, who took them meekly, then nodded to Kara. They turned and went out.

Martha waited until the door was closed, then smiled at Kara.

"Kara," she said, pulling her onto the sofa. "Tell me, what's been going on in Smallville?"

"Where do I start?" Kara said with a watery smile.

"Tell me about these people you met at the farmhouse."

Kara told the story of how she'd met John Crawford and who he claimed to be.

"You're not sure?" Martha asked.

"I don't know. According to what Kal-El, I mean, Clark told me, he is NSA."

"But you think there's more to this? It's one of the reasons I wanted you to meet Steve and Diana."

"You mean, because he's Secret Service?" she asked.

"That, and more. You see, he knows Wonder Woman."


	7. Episode 2: Part 3

Part Three

"What are the charges?" Oliver asked.

He and Chloe had been taken to the central police station, but he had the feeling it was just a temporary measure.

"We're not prepared to discuss that with you right now, Mr Queen," the officer said.

"Well, I know my rights," Oliver told him, "and I have the right to know what we're being charged with."

"Mr Queen, considering the amount of trouble you and your wife are in, I would suggest you exercise your right to silence. At least until your friend manages to find you counsel."

Chloe had used their one phone call to contact Tess, who had been shocked and dismayed at this turn of events. And she'd promised to get an attorney there immediately. But that had been two hours ago and they'd been sequestered in separate interrogation rooms ever since.

Just what in the hell was going on?

XXXXXX

John Crawford smirked as he put the phone down. His counterpart in Canadian intelligence had just confirmed that Oliver and Chloe Queen were in the custody of Canadian police. Isabelle Lewis was a hard woman, but she was loyal to the cause and Crawford had been pleased so far with her work. She had so far managed to convince the entire Canadian police network that Mark Anders was a known subversive who had betrayed his own country.

Of course, the truth was that Anders had been investigating the society for years and he had come dangerously close to convincing a large percentage of the population of their true intent. The Illuminati could not have themselves exposed, hence the strike back against the journalist.

Neither could they allow the possibility of Chloe Queen meeting up with Anders and learning everything he knew. It would only be a matter of time before that information got back to Superman.

Crawford wondered what the baron intended where Superman was concerned. As was usual for the society, only the people at the top knew everything. Crawford was well down in the pyramid of power; told only what was necessary to do his job. It was the reason the Illuminati had managed to exist in secret for hundreds of years.

XXXXX

A man hurried along the streets of Vancouver, bending his head against the driving rain. He'd stood across the street from the building where he'd seen the couple taken away by police. He knew there was nothing he could have done to stop it, but he felt guilt nonetheless. The couple were innocent pawns, he knew that much.

He sniffed audibly, rubbing his nose with his sleeve. He'd caught a cold after being on the streets for two days. Whoever at the local tourist board said that Vancouver was a beautiful city, obviously didn't see the city's underground.

He bumped into a redheaded woman as he stumbled past the police station. He'd already tried one of his contacts to get them to help the young couple, but the former security intelligence officer had told him there was nothing he could do. The orders had come from higher up.

The man quickly uttered an 'excuse me' to the redhead, who nodded briefly. She looked stressed as she stepped to the kerb to cross the street. He hesitated, wondering if she was there about the young couple. There had to be someone he could trust. Since all his old contacts had let him down.

"Excuse me. Miss?"

The woman stopped and turned, looking at him curiously. Then her eyes widened.

"Oh my god! It's you!"

He frowned. What did she know?

"I don't understand."

"Chloe and Oliver – they were looking for you."

"The couple?"

The redhead nodded. "They were arrested right outside your building."

Anders nodded understandingly. "I saw them."

"What's going on?"

"It seems the Canadian security intelligence service has decided to declare me Undesirable Number One."

The redhead frowned. "What?"

"Never mind. Bad joke. Listen, miss ...?"

"Mercer. Tess Mercer."

"Miss Mercer, your friends are in terrible danger. The police have arrested them because of me. The orders have come from higher up than the police department."

"You mean the intelligence service?" Tess asked, eyes widening. "On what grounds?"

"I don't think it really matters," he said. "They can trump up some charge. Most likely treason."

"They're American. Not Canadian."

"It makes little difference," Anders told her. "Look, we need to get out of this rain and work out how to help your friends."

"But if you know the how and why, can't you ..."

"I've been declared persona non grata, Miss Mercer."

They ducked under the shelter of a storefront. Tess bit her lip.

"Look, my brother is ... well, he's Lex Luthor."

Anders stared at her. "You have got to be kidding me!"

"Why?"

"Because Luthor is wanted just as badly as ... well, Superman."

"How do you know about that?" she asked.

"About what?"

"Superman!"

"What do you mean?" He shook his head. "Look, all I know is this. The Illuminati are a group of very dangerous, power-hungry individuals who have been content to stay in the shadows controlling things for hundreds of years. Suddenly along comes Superman and all hell breaks loose."

"And what does this have to do with Lex?"

"How well do you know your brother?" Anders asked her. "Do you know about his experiments a few years ago? I think it was called 33.1."

"I'm familiar with it," Tess told him.

"Well, believe me, the Illuminati know all about that as well. Tell me, who do you think helped Lionel Luthor on his road to power?"

Tess stared at him, then her phone beeped. It was a text.

"The attorney. He's in the station now. We need to talk more about this," she told Anders. "Where are you staying?"

"Trust me, you don't want to know. Look, go get your friends out of that police station and back to the States. The intelligence service have no evidence on them, but that could change. Just get them off Canadian soil. And fast."

"What about you? There's so much more we need to know."

"I'll find you. Your brother – he lives in Metropolis, yes?" Tess nodded. "Good. I still have a couple of contacts I can trust. Do you have a business card?"

"Of course." She fished one out of her purse and handed it to him.

"I'll call you when I get there. There's a lot you need to know if you're going to save Superman." With that he turned and began hurrying away through the driving rain. Tess stared after him, wondering what he meant by that.

She hurried across the street to the police station.

XXXXXX

Kara stared at her aunt.

"Wonder Woman?" She frowned. "I met her. In California."

Kara had spent a little time in California over the past year. When Jor-El had told her that she needed to leave Clark to face his own destiny, she had thought about going forward in time. But she had changed her mind, instead preferring to see a little of the world that Clark had grown up in before she took the ultimate journey. Now that she knew what they were facing, she was glad she had waited.

"So, how does Steve Trevor knowing Wonder Woman help?"She had met the Amazon woman on one of her trips. Kara had been rescuing a busload of children when the driver had collapsed at the wheel. The bus had almost gone over a cliff. She'd just been pulling the yellow school bus back when Wonder Woman had turned up.

"Well, it looks like you have things well in hand, Supergirl," she smiled.

Kara stared at her. "Who are you?"

"They call me Wonder Woman."

Kara grinned. Wonder Woman's costume was almost as skimpy as her own and just as colourful with the red, white and blue combination.

"You know, I bet my cousin would love you," she said.

Wonder Woman had smiled back at her, then gone to the aid of the collapsed driver, who, it seemed, had had a heart attack. Kara stayed long enough to make sure the children were okay and that help was on the way. The children stared in awe at the two superheroes, even going so far as to ask for autographs.

Kara had talked long enough with Wonder Woman to know that she had, until recently, lived on an island that was populated only by women. And that she was immortal.

"She's some kind of princess, I think," Kara told Martha.

"I remember Clark talking about getting Wonder Woman to join the Justice League some time ago. He told me that Chloe met her when she was underground for a while."

"I don't think she has yet," Kara, who had had a few meetings with the League, answered.

"Then perhaps you should talk to her."

"What about Mr Trevor? How can he help?"

"Well, he is in the Secret Service. And because of his work in intelligence, he will know of any rumours of secret societies."

"But that's the whole point, isn't it? About them being secret."

"I'm sure Steve will at least be able to find out a little more. Especially when we tell him that Mara is in danger. Or rather, when Wonder Woman tells him."

"But how do we let him know without revealing that Clark is Superman?" Kara asked.

"That is a difficult one," Martha conceded. "Why don't we sit down and have some dinner and we can talk about this some more. I have to admit though, Kara, I am concerned. Especially because my grand-daughter is in danger. Clark and Lois can take care of themselves, but ..."

"I know," Kara answered. "It doesn't seem right that they're going after an innocent baby."

XXXXX

Clark had wanted to go out and patrol, but Lois had begged him not to go out this one night and he'd called members of the Justice League to patrol in his place, concerned at his wife's behaviour. She'd become increasingly nervy since the assault on the farm, and far more protective of Mara.

He paced up and down the penthouse apartment, holding his screaming daughter in his arms, trying to rock her back to sleep. Lois was on the couch looking through some files on the laptop. She looked up, frowning.

"What's wrong with her?" she asked.

"I don't know. She won't settle."

"She can't be hungry. I just fed her."

"She's not wet either. I think she's just upset," Clark said. He stroked the baby's head gently and crooned. Mara hiccoughed, then began crying again. He looked at his wife helplessly, then resumed pacing.

"Have you heard anything from Chloe and Oliver?" he asked.

"Not since Tess called about the arrest. I hope the attorney she got them managed to get them out of there."

"Me too." His hearing picked up the sound of the elevator and he looked up toward the rusty door. "You know, Oliver should really get that door replaced."

"Oh, I don't know. I think he thinks it adds to the ambience, or something," Lois grinned. "It can't be Oliver. They wouldn't be back from Vancouver yet."

Clark used his x-ray vision to look into the shaft. His eyes widened in surprise as he saw who it was coming up in the car. Still holding the baby, he strode over to the lift as the doors opened and Lex Luthor stepped out.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked.

"You weren't answering your phone," Lex said simply. He looked at the baby, who was still screaming. "Your daughter doesn't seem very happy."

"She's unsettled. Which isn't surprising given the events of the last few days."

Lex nodded. "You're right. But why do I get the feeling you're holding me partly responsible? I meant it when I said we should work together against these people."

"The same way you told me to fight Darkseid?" Clark asked.

Lex reached out to the baby. "May I?"

Clark closed his arms protectively around his daughter and Lex sighed.

"Look, I know you think I'm the devil incarnate, and in other circumstances, we would be enemies. But it so happens I do have a little experience in this area."

"You were twelve when your mother had Julian," Clark pointed out.

"Yes, but I remember him crying a lot in his first few weeks. It was probably one of the things that drove my mother to kill him. That and the post-partum depression of course. Please. Let me try something."

Reluctantly, Clark handed the baby over, hearing the shocked gasp from Lois. Lex took the baby in his arms, holding her upright against his chest, using it to support her head while he bounced her up and down. Mara cried a little longer then her cries began tapering off until she was just hiccoughing.

Lex smiled down at her.

"There, that's better isn't it?" He looked back up at Clark. "She's got colic."

Clark frowned at his former best friend. "How did ...?"

"My guess is, it's something in Lois' breast milk. Probably to do with what's happened as well." Clark continued to frown at him. Lex huffed. "Look, even emotional upsets can affect breast milk," Lex explained patiently. "It can increase the acidity, which causes the stomach upset in the baby."

"I see," Clark said, taking his daughter, who had fallen asleep in Lex's arms. "I'm sure you didn't come here to teach me about fatherhood."

"No, unfortunately I'm unable to have children of my own," Lex said sadly. "The meteor shower made me sterile."

Clark blinked. "Lex, I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

"It's not your fault, Clark. You might have come down in the meteor shower, but you are not responsible for my, uh, affliction. And it was more a blessing in disguise anyway, considering how many women I slept with in my misspent youth."

Lex offered a grin that was reminiscent of the old days. It made Clark pause. Why was Lex being so friendly all of a sudden?

"Look, don't get me wrong here, Clark. We're not friends. Frankly, your 'other vocation' causes some serious hurdles where my plans are concerned. But I can put those aside for the sake of our mutual enemy. Being the Baron de Rochefort."

"Why? What is he planning?" Clark asked.

"I just got word today that the baron has purchased a great deal of land in Smallville. And he plans to build a hotel resort in the town."

"The city council would never go for it," Clark said.

"They did," Lex told him. "The papers were signed just today."

"I don't get it. Why Smallville?"

"The baron and his people can mine the land for all the Kryptonite. Think what would happen if he controlled all the meteor rock reserves. Those that I haven't managed to find myself."

"He could kill me," Clark said. "Or worse."

"Precisely."

"If the resort gets built, de Rochefort has a base he can work from. And the Illuminati ..."

"The Illuminati are already here."

Both Clark and Lex looked around at the newcomer's voice. Clark stared at the man in the dark suit with the armour moulded to the chest. On the head was a mask with what looked like ears, and a huge cape flowed from the back of the suit, making him look like ...

"Batman?" Lex said in surprise.

"Luthor," Batman said coldly, his voice hoarse. Clark guessed he was using some sort of voice modifier.

Lois got in between the visitor and Clark and Lex, taking the baby from Clark.

"I'll go put her down upstairs," she said softly, clearly not wanting any part of the discussion.

Clark nodded, his eyes still on the Batman.

"Chloe told me about you," he said.

"Your friend Chloe talks too much," Batman rasped. "But that's not why I'm here. There's been rumblings among the criminal fraternity, even in Gotham, that the Illuminati is targeting Superman."

"That's what we've heard," Clark said.

"They tried to form an alliance with me," Lex confirmed. Batman just glared at him.

"I'm surprised, Luthor, to see you here. Considering your anti-Superman stance of the last year."

Lex shrugged. "I learned a long time ago that the best strategy is sometimes to do the unexpected."

"Well, it will cost you. My contacts have already informed me that there are moves to destroy Luthorcorp. And trust me, they are capable."

"What do you know about it?" Clark asked.

"Let's just say I've had my own battles with one particular incarnation of them. Called the League of Shadows."

Lex raised an eyebrow. "Batman, are you suggesting that the League of Shadows has ties to the Illuminati?"

"What's the League of Shadows?" Clark asked.

"They're a group of terrorists who most believe date back to even the time of the Caesars in Rome," Lex explained. "When they see a society becoming too decadent, they destroy it. Isn't that what they tried to do in Gotham?"

"They created an economic depression," Batman said, nodding. "Attempting to destroy the city by stealth, rather than overtly. The League claims responsibility for the great fire of London and even the plague."

"That sounds kind of similar to what's been happening in Smallville," Clark said.

"Of course," Lex said. "Encourage businesses to fail, driving out the population, allowing them to take control."

"And of course, Luthorcorp is totally blameless," Clark returned.

"I acknowledge I played my part in it," Lex said. "But Smallville has been dying for a long time. And at least you still have the fertiliser plant, even if it is failing."

Clark sighed. Lex did have a point.

"So what can we do?" he asked Batman.

"We start with the Justice League." He glanced warily at Lex. "And while I do have doubts about your sincerity, Luthor, I believe you are right that it is in both of your best interests to form an alliance. However undesirable it is. You are both being targeted by the Illuminati."

XXXXXX

Baron de Rochefort smirked as he sipped his cognac. While it was an inferior liquor compared to that produced by his own distillery, it was still reasonably good. And it was the only one available in this god-forsaken country.

He congratulated himself on having convinced the mayor of Smallville of his plan. The resort would ensure that he and his people controlled the town's economy. And with that, he could slowly begin to destroy not only Superman, but Luthorcorp as well.

It was a shame, he thought, that Luthor had decided to turn down his alliance and offer his allegiance to Superman instead. But it mattered little. De Rochefort knew it was only a matter of time before he crushed Luthor and his ego.


	8. Episode 2: Part 4

Episode Three: Part Four

Southern Hemisphere: Dateline July 2008

It was somewhat of a legend among Moana's people. Stories of a great warrior who claimed to possess the powers of a god. Much of those claims had been dismissed, over a thousand years later, as a myth, a story told to explain how much of their world came to be. Moana knew most of the stories were exaggerations, but the powers were not.

Much of those abilities had been lost through marriage – the bloodline 'diluted' as it mixed with other bloodlines. But still, some of them remained, giving each warrior strength greater than those of their Hapu – their tribe, and great powers of the mind. The powers were meant to have been passed down through the male bloodline. None of the whanau had expected those powers to be passed on to the first girl in six generations.

Moana had grown up knowing she had been given this great gift, but also taught that she had a responsibility toward that gift. It had been taught to her from the time she could walk that she must not expose those abilities. As a child, she had fought against those restrictions, knowing she could do so much good in the world if only she could use those abilities.

But she had learned from others that there were many who would seek to take that power for their own gain.

At thirty years old, Moana was a journalist for a small metropolitan newspaper. She worked for the newspaper during the day, but still keeping her eyes and ears open for trouble. It was not that she went out looking for trouble. It was just that trouble seemed to find her.

Walking alone late one evening, after attending yet another dull council meeting, Moana had passed a group of men sitting around smoking and yelling out offensive remarks to any woman that passed by. When she ignored them, she heard them yelling more abuse at her, then realised they'd begun to follow her. She was outnumbered, even with her strength, but there was no other option.

She turned to face the five men, glaring at them as they laughed at her.

"Little girl thinks she's going to fight," one of them laughed.

Steeling herself, Moana dropped her bag on the ground and waited for the first man to come to her, then lashed out with a hard punch to the jaw. A second man tried to circle around her and grab her from behind and she kicked out, using the first man for balance. Before she could take on the other three, however, she saw two men fighting them.

One of the men she had been fighting grabbed her in a bear hug from behind and she pretended to struggle, pulling away from the man enough to be able to walk up the wall in front of her and twist out of his grip in a mid-air flip, landing behind him. She kicked him in the back, sending him crashing hard into the wall, then turned to the other man, shoving him with enough force to propel him into the wall of the next building.

Moana looked around to find that the two men who had come to her rescue were staring at her, open-mouthed.

"Well, hey, nice moves," the darker one said.

"Yeah. Guess you didn't need our help after all," the shorter, blonde one grinned.

"Still, it's appreciated," she told them. "You're American." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yeah," the blonde man said.

They were both young. One was probably in his early twenties and the other was most likely still in his teens.

"What brings you here?" she asked.

"We're looking for someone. A friend. His name's Clark. He disappeared about a month ago and we thought he might have ended up here."

"Why?" she asked, walking with them down the street toward the centre of town.

"Well, he was up in the Arctic. Don't ask why he was there. But we heard there was a Greenpeace ship in the area. Thought they might have picked him up."

She highly doubted the ship would have come in so soon. Not that distance. But she let it go.

"So, uh, that thing you did," the younger man began.

She looked at him. He didn't seem all that shocked, which gave her pause.

"Where did you get those …" the other man said.

"Those what?"

"C'mon. You practically threw that guy clear across the alley. At least ten feet. A girl … I mean, someone of your, um, stature …"

"I was born with it," she said. "I've always been strong."

"Oh. By the way, name's Victor. That's Bart," he said, indicating the younger man.

She quickly introduced herself.

Bart grinned. "So, know somewhere we can get anything to eat?" he asked cheekily.

She grinned back.

Twenty minutes later found them sitting down in a local fast food restaurant. Moana stared, open-mouthed as Bart wolfed down his food. He'd ordered almost two of every item on the menu.

She looked at Victor, who just seemed exasperated at Bart's behavior.

"Bart, man, come on," he said.

"What?" Bart asked innocently. "I'm hungry."

She shook her head, fighting back a laugh. "I thought I ate well. Where do you put it?" she said, looking him over. Bart was slender and not very tall.

"So what's your story?" she asked, looking directly at Bart.

"Nothing to tell," he said.

"Yeah, right," she said.

Victor glanced around.

"This really isn't the greatest place to be talking about this."

The two young men walked her home and Moana invited them to stay the night, since they hadn't got around to getting a room in a hotel. Victor offered to sleep on the floor, while Bart took the couch.

"So, really, what's your story?" she asked again.

Bart looked at Victor, who shrugged.

"A few years ago I was in an accident. I got sort of struck by lightning. Ever since then I can run pretty fast. And I have a really fast metabolism. That's why I have to eat so much."

"You mean why you eat like a pig," Victor retorted.

Bart just glared at his friend.

"And what about you?" she asked Victor.

"Yeah, I was in an accident too. Car crash. I wasn't supposed to have survived but they decided to use some experimental technology on me and ... well ..."

Moana watched in stunned silence as Victor peeled back a piece of his skin to show what looked like machinery.

"I see."

"You can't tell anyone though."

"Believe me, I know the drill," she said. "What happened to your friend Clark to make you think he ended up all the way down here?"

"Well, Clark is ... I mean, he kinda has these abilities too. Like you, he was born with them though. Anyway, he went chasing after Lex Luthor in the Arctic and that's the last we heard of him."

"Who's Lex Luthor?" she asked, genuinely puzzled.

"He's this guy ... he tried to turn me into a rump roast once."

"I'm sorry?"

"He found out about my speed and wanted to know how I got my abilities."

"He's known for experimenting on people with abilities. Like us."

"What did he do to you?"

"Well, his company bought the same company that did this to me. He was going to have them erase my memory."

"And most likely turn you into some kind of foot soldier for him," Moana said, nodding. "Yeah, I've heard of people like that before. Do you think he might have had your friend taken?"

"Anything's possible with that freak," Bart said.

Moana made some calls when she got into work the next morning, then called Victor.

"Sorry. I've talked to a few of my contacts with Greenpeace and they don't remember picking up anyone who matches Clark's description."

"Well, you tried," Victor said, sighing. "Thanks anyway. Listen, be careful, okay? We know what it's like to be chased for ... well, you know."

"Yeah. I know. I promise."

What she had never told Victor or Bart was that she knew full well the consequences of exposing her abilities to the wrong person. Some years earlier, she had become friends with a man who had been a journalist attached to the environmental group. He had been one of the crew members on the ship the Rainbow Warrior when it had been bombed in the harbour in Auckland City more than twenty years ago.

While two French agents had been arrested for the bombing, her friend had begun to dug a little deeper and he'd learned that there was far more to the bombing than even the government knew. The orders might have come from the French secret service, or whatever they called it, but someone even higher up had given those orders.

Her friend had dug even deeper and found that there was far more at stake than nuclear testing. He'd learned of a secret base in New Caledonia, run by a group he claimed had links to the Illuminati.

Moana had at first scoffed at that, until her friend had been found stabbed to death in his own apartment just a year earlier. The police had called it a home invasion because his safe had been broken into and papers scattered everywhere. But Moana had known exactly what that safe contained. It would have been worthless to any average criminal, but not to an organisation like the Illuminati, she thought. The only real item missing was a journal, with all his notes and research on the Illuminati and their plans for the world.

Inside that journal was also a list of names. People who had been targeted by the group for either elimination or alliance.

When Moana returned home that evening, she pulled up a loose board she used to hide any valuable information she had gathered over the years. Her friend had given her a copy of everything that had been in the journal. Thumbing through the pages, she located the list and read through it.

Listed under alliance were the names Lionel and Lex Luthor. Lionel was dead, and Lex was who knew where.

As if drawn to it, Moana found herself turning the pages to another section of the journal. Where her friend had got this information from, she didn't know. But it appeared to be the excerpt of notes from either an essay or a secret meeting between the Illuminati.

Her friend had made notes in the margin of the excerpts.

_It is now possible to envisage the establishment of a kind of 'international highway' where all these machines are interconnected. (The Internet) _ her friend had written.

_The constant of the 'Electronic Technology' will make sure all the means to file, identify and monitor all the means to file, identify and monitor all individuals of the populations of the West'. (Big Brother – Hmm, Orwell might be right)_

_Expand the 'leisure society' that has been so profitable to date. By using the invention of the 'video' we have funded, and games attached to it, end up perverting the morals of youth. Offer him the opportunity now to satisfy all his instincts. A being possessed by his senses, and a slave to them, we know, has no ideal, no inner strength to defend anything. (Subliminal messages? Brainwashing? Violence in video games leading to chaos?)_

PRESENT DAY

Clark stared at Moana as she related her story. He'd phoned her to set up a meeting with her as Superman and asked her to meet with him that afternoon in Metropolis Park. She'd spent the last hour telling her story.

"If you knew who I was the other day, then why didn't you tell me the truth?"

"For the same reason you wear glasses at the Daily Planet," she told him. "I couldn't risk exposing you anymore than I could risk exposing myself."

Clark glanced over at the bushes where Lois was hiding with Mara. She'd spent much of the last hour walking around the park but had returned to sit on a bench on the other side of the shrubbery, watching them. He nodded slightly, telling her it was safe to come out of hiding.

Moana said nothing as Lois appeared, making it clear she was not surprised by it.

"How do you know it was the Illuminati who murdered your friend? For all I know, this journal could have been just some elaborate fabrication."

"And Superman is just a myth. Like my ancestor."

Mara began crying, having clearly woken from her nap.

"How do we know we can trust you?" Lois asked, rocking the carriage to help the baby settle down.

"You don't. Anymore than I can trust you, I suppose. You could always ask Bart and Victor to corroborate my story. About meeting them, I mean."

Clark remembered his friends talking about someone they had met while searching the southern hemisphere for him. But they'd made it clear she wasn't a team player.

"Why now?" he asked. "Why didn't you come to me with this years ago when you found out who I was?"

"Because I didn't have a full idea of the Illuminati's plans until now. I got word from another journalist friend who told me that they have begun to gather their forces. They are prepared to strike. At you. Or rather, Superman."

"We know they're after Superman," Lois said, clutching Clark's arm. "According to another journalist we talked to, Superman is enemy number one."

"And anyone who stands with him," Moana pointed out. "Look, there's always been this fear that the world is going to end soon. I mean, with all the so-called natural disasters going on in the world – the talk of global warming, the destruction of the environment, the economic disasters and the wars – it's all just a smokescreen to hide the Illuminati's real intentions.

"I'm telling you now, if the Illuminati get what they want from you, the world as we know it will cease to exist. And believe me, they have planned this for years. Centuries, even."

"How do we stop them, then?" Lois asked. "You and everyone else who seem to know the Illuminati claim they are more powerful than anything we've ever come up against before. And Darkseid was pretty powerful."

Moana snorted. "Darkseid was a pussycat compared to these guys. I mean, these people are the face of true evil. And the problem with true evil is, you can't identify it by some symbol on a forehead. They can come across as normal as you please, unless they choose otherwise."

"Why you?" Clark asked.

"I once went to one of the tribal elders who claimed they could see into the future. He told me there was a reason why I inherited the abilities of my ancestor, rather than my brother. That I had a destiny to help save the world. I never told my parents any of it because he swore me to secrecy."

"Not to mention the fact that you'd probably be laughed out of town," Lois surmised.

Moana looked at her steadily.

"Yeah, well, all these conspiracy theorists are just a bunch of crackpots with too much time on their hands, right? There's a reason why all this is happening now. Because they're ready to move."

"If they're so powerful, then why is Superman such a threat to them?"

"Look, they want chaos. They want the gangs controlling the streets, the violence getting out of control. They want to force the lawmakers to make laws which will amount to removing the rights of individuals. Every human right that people take for granted."

"Why?" Lois asked. "What good will it do them?"

"Have you ever heard of a former solicitor-general by the name of Robert Bork?"

"No," Clark said, vowing to look it up.

"He claimed that if we smother the population with too many laws, then it will lead to instability. I'm paraphrasing, but that's about the crux of it."

"I don't understand," Clark told her.

"Okay, let me put it to you another way. They're constantly making laws which are designed to restrict our freedoms. Like the Internet. They say it's about file-sharing but it's really about denying people freedom of speech while at the same time allowing Big Brother to monitor the average citizen. It's common knowledge that all communications are monitored anyway and they have certain keywords which they use to identify possible terrorist or illegal activity. But they can take it further.

"Back home, they introduced a law to protect children against violence. Parents who spanked their children could be charged under that law. There is supposed to be a line drawn between what is reasonable force and what isn't. But no one seems to know what that line is. A guy was arrested for flicking his kid's ear, even though the kid totally deserved to be disciplined because he'd done something really stupid."

"So without the discipline, kids can just run amok," Lois said, clearly beginning to understand. Laws that were too restrictive would do more harm than good as people would fight them.

"And of course all the violence in youths today is blamed on the violence of video games," Clark nodded. "And you think the Illuminati are behind all this."

"Well, I didn't come up with the theory," Moana said. "But yeah, I think you're getting it."

"And this is why Superman's a threat. It's not just about him giving hope to the people. It's about the numbers," Lois said. Clark frowned at her and she turned to him. "Well, think about it, honey. Crime has dropped. Maybe not hugely, but it has still dropped. And it's continuing to drop."

"Which takes away one of their reasons for calling for a formation of a world government – one body to rule the entire world. A government controlled by them."

Clark shuddered. The thought of someone like the baron in charge of governing the entire world didn't bear thinking about.

XXXXXXX

Ross Webster strode into his office a week later without even sparing his assistant a glance. He was anxious to get to work. There was nothing Ross would like better than to take Lex Luthor down a peg or two. And he knew just where to start.

His sister, Vera, a very unattractive, horse-faced woman in her late forties, entered the room

"Where's the fire?" she asked tersely.

"We have work to do, Vera," he snapped.

"Does this have anything to do with the man and woman I saw you talking to the other night?"

"It has everything to do with them. I want the names of every man and woman on the board of Luthorcorp."

"Why?"

"Because we're going to take it over."

"Lex owns fifty-one percent of the stock," she told him.

"Not after I go to the media."

"Saying what?" Vera frowned.

"You'll find out."

"I don't see what this has to do with the board," she began.

"Vera, for christ's sake, stop questioning and just get me that list!"

XXXXXXXX

Lex stared in disbelief at the man he'd considered to be his chief supporter within government circles.

"You're what?"

"We're awarding the contract to Webscoe Industries," Senator Kelley told him.

"I don't understand. You told me this was an absolute certainty. You guaranteed it."

Project Sirius was going to be the company's saving grace. After several failed projects, including Ares, Gemini, Leviathan and several others, Lex had been working on a weapon that had incorporated all of those ideas and more. But he had depended on government funding to cover the shortfall. The project was going to cost the company billions of dollars and eat up a good proportion of their profits for the next five years but he had considered the risk was worth it.

He'd already spent half of the promised funding in research and development and was close to a successful prototype.

"I'm sorry. This is not my decision."

It galled that they'd chosen his biggest business rival in the end. Webscoe Industries had been Luthorcorp's biggest competitor since Lionel had taken a fledgling agricultural company and made it into a multi-national corporation.

"Why?" Lex asked. "Why now?"

"It's come to light that there have been certain unethical projects going on in Luthorcorp and the government just does not want to be associated with it."

Unethical projects? The senator knew very well what those 'unethical projects' were. And they had been no worse than what the government had been funding for years.

Something smelled bad about this, he decided.

But he had little time to ponder the problem. Tess had taken off with the Italian, choosing to spend a few days in DC with the man. Lex suspected the Italian was conning his sister, but there was no way Tess would listen to him now. He had burned his bridges with her.

Lex sat back behind his desk, wondering why everything was beginning to fall apart. He remembered something he was sure he'd read in one of Machiavelli's treatises. He couldn't remember the exact quote without looking it up, but it boiled down to the fact that once a man with high ambitions had reached his lofty perch, there was only one way to go and that was down.

Lex realised that was exactly what was happening. He was about to head for a very nasty fall.

XXXXXXX

Clark stood in Watchtower, facing the huge plasma screen. Chloe smiled at him from the screen.

"I think this Moana is legit," she said. "Everything checks out about her story. And I talked to Victor and Bart. They both liked her. And yes, she does have those abilities, as you've seen for yourself."

"What about the journalist friend she spoke of?"

Chloe nodded. "I checked it out thoroughly. Andy Bell was stabbed to death in his apartment about a year before Bart and Victor met her. The police theory is he interrupted a burglar as nothing of any value was taken. They still haven't found the killer."

"Thanks Chloe."

His friend smiled. "Don't mention it." She looked to her left at something. "Don't you have a press conference to get to?" she said.

"Oh yeah," he said, glancing at the clock. "Listen, have a good time in Europe. Second honeymoon, right?"

Chloe snorted. "Considering Ollie never took me on our first honeymoon ..."

Oops, Clark thought with a grin. He'd stepped into that one.

He left for the press conference at Webscoe Industries. He hadn't wanted to go, since this was just an announcement of the corporation winning a government contract, but Perry had ordered him to attend. As he entered the main reception area where they'd set up for the conference, he noticed a man in a leather trench coat and black fedora.

Way to be inconspicuous, he thought. Frowning, he peered closer at the man, who was also wearing dark sunglasses and doing his best not to be seen by the two security guards watching the gathering journalists. Glancing back at the guards, he realised his staring was attracting their attention and quickly turned away from the man.

But even as he tried to pay attention to Ross Webster, he was distracted by a sharp 'hsst' from the man.

Clark shifted on the balls of his feet, then deliberately dropped his notebook, kicking his pen away to the far wall.

"Excuse me," he whispered. "Sorry, dropped my pen."

The journalists gathered around him groaned quietly. The mild-mannered geek, otherwise known as Clark Kent, had struck again. He made his way to the back row, picking up his pen and looking directly at the man who beckoned to him. With a gasp, which elicited a glare from his colleagues, Clark realised who it was.

"Lex," he whispered as he sidled up to him. "I mean, Luthor, what are you doing here?"

"I knew I'd find you here," Lex told him. "I needed to talk to you."

What could be so important that Lex needed to talk to him now? Lex nodded his head in the direction of the exit.

"Come on," he said.

"You know, you could have just picked up a phone," Clark admonished him as they stepped outside.

"I tried. Your wife wouldn't take my calls and I couldn't get through to the Planet. Ever since Bruce took over the newspaper, I can't even get advertising," the bald man complained, taking off the hat and rubbing his head. "Damn, I forgot how much that itched."

Clark had forgotten about that. When Lex had returned, he had tried to censor any stories about Superman. Fearing there would be a battle brewing, Clark had asked Oliver to try to intervene. Chloe had then suggested Bruce Wayne negotiate the takeover of the Daily Planet. It had taken several months, but he had finally signed on the dotted line a month ago.

"Lex ... what is this about?" Clark asked.

"It's about this. The contract going to Webscoe. Luthorcorp was supposed to get that contract. It was a done deal. All it needed was for the paperwork to be signed."

"So why didn't it?"

"Remember what Batman said about them destroying Luthorcorp?"

"You mean the Illuminati?" Clark asked.

Lex nodded. "It's starting. And I don't think even you know how to stop them."


End file.
